—J 


R-GO-FORTH-AND-FIND-H 

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5  Va.     -.?-      (7\f  ? 


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LIBRARY 

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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


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ft 


GO  FORTH  AND  FIND 


THE  "UNKNOWN"  LIBRARY 


or  mi 
UlUVBRSITT 


THE  "UNKNOWN "LIBRARY, 

1.  MLLE.  IXE.     By  LANOE  FALCONER 

2.  STORY     OF     ELEANOR     LAM- 

BERT.    By  MAGDALEN  BROOKE. 

3.  MYSTERY  OF  THE  CAMPAGNA 

4.  THE  FRIEND  OF  DEATH. 

5.  PHILIPPA.     By  ELLA. 

6.  THE  HOTEL  D'ANGLETERRE. 

By  LANOE  FALCONER. 

7.  AMARYLLIS. 

8.  SOME     EMOTIONS    AND     A 

MORAL.    By  JOHN  OLIVER  HOBBES. 

9.  EUROPEAN    RELATIONS. 

10.  JOHN  SHERMAN,  and  DHOYA. 
xi.  THROUGH  THE   RED-LITTEN 
WINDOWS. 

12.  BACK  FROM  THE  DEAD.  SMITH 

13.  INTENT  AND  BUNGALOW. 

14.  THE   SINNER'S   COMEDY.      By 

JOHN  OLIVER  HOBBES. 

15.  THE  WEE  WIDOW'S  CRUISE. 

16.  A  NEW  ENGLAND  CACTUS. 

17.  GREEN  TEA. 

18.  A  SPLENDID  COUSIN. 

19.  GENTLEMAN     UPCOTT'S 

DAUGHTER.  By  TOM  COBBLEIGH. 

20.  AT   THE  THRESHOLD.     By 

LAURA  DEARBORN. 

21.  HER   HEART  WAS   TRUE. 

22.  THE  LAST  KING  OF  YEWLE. 

23.  A    STUDY   IN    TEMPTATIONS. 

By  JOHN  OLIVER  HOBBES. 

24.  THE  PALIMPSEST.     THIERRY. 

25.  SQUIRE  HELLMAN.    J.  AHO. 

26.  A  FATHER  OF  SIX. 

27.  THE  TWO  COUNTESSES. 

28.  GOD'S  WILL.     By  ILSK  FRAPAN. 

29.  HER  PROVINCIAL  COUSIN. 

30.  MY    TWO    WIVES.     By   ONE    OF 

THEIR  HUSBANDS. 

31.  YOUNG     SAM     AND     SABINA. 

By  TOM  COBBLEIGH. 

32.  CHAPERONED. 

33-  WANTED,  A  COPYIST.     By  W. 

H.  BREARLEY. 

34-  A  BUNDLE  OF  LIFE.     By  JOHN 

OLIVER  HOBBES. 

35-  THE  LONE  INN.     FERGUS  HUME. 
36.  "GO  FORTH  AND  FIND," 


THE   "UNKNOWN"   LIBRARY 

"GO  FORTH 

AND  FIND 


BY 

THOMAS  H.  BRAINERD 

£  p 


The  tale  of  one  unto  whose  soul  was  borne 
An  angel's  whisper  soft  as  summer  wind, 

There  is  a  heart  which  heaven  has  made 

for  thee, 
Go  forth  and  find." 


YORK 

THE  CASSELL  PUBLISHING  CO. 
31  EAST  I7TH  ST.  (UNION  SQUARE) 


^ — ) 


'/  jmi*-jL- 
tot^v  /LT 

COPYRIGHT,  1895,  BY 
THE  CASSELL  PUBLISHING  CO. 


AH  rights  reserved. 


THE  MERSHON  COMPANY  PRESS, 
RAHWAY,   N.   J. 


GO  FORTH  AND  FIND/ 


i. 

HE  sky  was  without  a  cloud, 
but  in  the  west,  where  the 
horizon  meets  the  sea,  the 
evening  vapors  were  gath- 
ering. They  were  making 
themselves  gay  for  their  sunset  festi- 
val and  already  the  sun  seemed  to  be 
suspended  in  a  golden  mist  over  a 
sea  of  gold.  The  stretch  of  sandy 
headlands  along  the  coast  caught  the 
color  and  threw  it  down  into  the 
smooth  water  where  it  lay  in  long 
*  wavy  reflections.  Inland  the  smooth 
rounded  foothills  seemed  to  nestle 
closer  to  the  mountains  in  expecta- 
tion of  the  coming  night. 

On  the  end  of  a  short  wharf  which 
ran  out  over  the  rocks  from  the  shel- 


V  H  /;  Ji  ti  !  J    T  n  0  H  LI  i 

2  "  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

ter  of  the  cliffs,  a  woman  stood  shad- 
ing her  eyes  with  her  hand,  and 
looking  intently  out  to  sea.  Further 
back  on  the  wharf  a  colored  man  was 
making  tackle  ready  for  the  coming 
of  a  boat.  The  woman  held  in  her 
hand  a  letter  which  she  had  just  re- 
ceived. It  was  from  her  husband. 

"We  sail  with  the  outgoing  tide 
to-morrow  morning,  sweetheart,"  it 
said,  "and  will  be  with  you  almost  as 
soon  as  this." 

She  had  hurried  down  to  the  shore, 
calling,  as  she  went,  to  Dan  to  follow 
her.  As  yet  there  was  no  sign  of  any 
sail  on  the  wide  sea.  The  tide  was 
full,  the  surf  broke  in  white  foam  over 
the  rocks,  and  the  air  was  warm  and 
delicious.  She  went  down  from  the 
wharf  and  sat  on  the  sand  to  wait. 
Jack,  her  husband,  had  been  gone  a 
week.  Now  he  was  coming  home, 
and  with  him  was  coming  his  dearest 
friend,  Ned  Harlow.  She  had  never 
seen  the  man  though  she  felt  she 
knew  him.  His  name  had  been  a 
household  word  with  them.  Jack 
and  he  had  been  boys  together,  had 
been  college  chums  and  were  like 


GO    FORTH    AND    FIND. 


brothers.  After  their  college  days 
were  over  they  had  gone  abroad* 
together,  had  walked  through  Norway 
one  summer  and  had  gone  to  the 
Albert  Cataract  in  winter.  Then 
they  had  parted  for  a  little  while  as 
we  all  part  with  our  dear  ones ;  Jack  to 
go  around  through  India  and  Japan, 
across  the  Pacific,  and  so  home 
to  Boston;  Ned  to  visit  some  rela- 
tives in  England,  then  to  while  away 
the  rest  of  the  time  in  Paris  so  as  not 
to  reach  home  until  it  was  time  for 
Jack  to  arrive.  It  is  useless  to  plan 
against  fate.  When  the  big  City  of 
Tokio  steamed  out  of  the  port  of 
Yokohama  one  bright  morning  in  the 
following  June  two  people,  Bessie 
Morris  and  Jack  Winthrop,  stood  so 
near  to  each  other  that  the  cape  of 
her  traveling  coat  touched  his  ulster, 
and,  as  he  has  often  told  her  since,  one 
of  the  points  of  her  parasol  imperiled 
his  eyes  if  he  looked  in  her  direction. 
They  were  gazing  at  lovely  Fujiyama 
slowly  growing  more  distant,  and  say- 
ing in  their  hearts  a  long  and  tender 
farewell  to  the  flowery  home  of  per- 
fect gentleness.  When  their  adieus 


Of  TBM 

TfflVERSITFl 


4  "  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

were  made  they  turned  toward  each 
other,  their  eyes  met,  and — Bessie 
always  said  that  she  must  have  known 
Jack  in  some  other  world  because  she 
knew  him  quite  well  at  once.  It  is 
enough  to  say  that  long  before  they 
came  to  the  golden  portal  of  her  San 
Francisco  home  they  were  all  the 
world  to  each  other;  Boston  was 
obliterated  from  Jack's  mind  and 
Ned,  though  not  forgotten,  because  he 
formed  the  theme  of  endless  stories  as 
they  walked  the  deck  recounting  to 
each  other  all  the  events  of  their  past 
lives  uselessly  spent  away  from  each 
other,  still  had  slipped  into  the  back- 
ground and  there  was  no  thought  of 
keeping  tryst  with  him.  As  soon  as 
they  arrived  in  San  Francisco  Jack 
sent  a  cablegram  to  Ned  to  the  effect 
that  he  would  stay  in  California,  and 
very  soon  wrote  him  a  long  letter  full 
of  his  new  life. 

Bessie  remembered  it  all  very  well 
now  as  she  lay  on  the  warm  sand, 
just  out  of  reach  of  the  waves ;  how 
a  long  time  had  elapsed  before  any 
reply  had  come  to  Jack's  letter,  and 
how  pained  and  mortified  he  had 


GO    FORTH    AND    FIND. 


looked  when  he  received  a  scrappy 
little  note  only  telling  that  Ned  had 
spent  the  summer  in  the  north  of 
Scotland  and  was  now  in  Paris.  Jack 
was  so  hurt  that  Ned  did  not  men- 
tion his  engagement,  nor  send  any 
word  of  congratulation,  that  he  did 
not  write  again  for  some  time,  and 
Bessie  knew  he  had  felt  that  the 
change  in  Ned  was  due  to  an  un- 
worthy jealousy  of  her.  Later  they 
heard  that  he  had  gone  to  Nice,  then 
that  he  had  entered  a  conservatory 
of  music,  was  studying  the  violin  and 
musical  composition,  and  then  that  he 
was  going  on  the  stage  as  a  tenore 
robusto.  Jack  always  said  that  he 
would  rather  hear  Ned's  voice  than 
any  other  music  in  the  world.  Again 
they  heard  that  his  life  was  sadly 
changed;  that  moody  and  listless  he 
wandered  about  the  world  trying  a 
little  of  one  thing  and  another,  but 
accomplishing  nothing,  seeming  to 
have  no  ambition  or  aim  in  life. 
This  made  Jack  very  unhappy  and 
he  said  to  Bessie: 

"I   have   been    a  brute.     Here  I 
have  been  feeling  hard  toward  Ned, 


6  "  GC    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

thinking  that  he  was  changed  to  me, 
and  now  I  see  that  some  great  mis- 
fortune must  have  overtaken  him. 
What  a  wretched  self-conceited  ass  I 
am.  He  has  probably  needed  all 
that  I  could  give  him,  all  that  our 
old  friendship  could  be  to  him,  while 
I  have  held  aloof.  This  Ned  that 
we  have  heard  about  bears  no  resem- 
blance to  my  dear  enthusiastic  boy. 
I  believe  if  you  will  spare  me,  that  I 
will  run  over  and  see  him." 

That  was  about  three  months  be- 
fore the  wedding  day  and  she  had 
felt  just  a  little  superstitious  about  it, 
but  she  laid  the  feeling  aside  and  told 
Jack  that  she  loved  him  all  the  more 
for  wanting  to  go.  So  he  had  gone, 
seen  Ned,  and  come  back,  saddened, 
but  in  a  way  comforted  too.  Ned 
had  been  so  unfeignedly  glad  to  see 
him.  At  the  last  moment,  before  he 
left  him,  Ned  had  given  a  half  prom- 
ise to  come  to  California  in  the  near 
future.  That  was  two  years  before, 
and  now,  here  he  was.  Bessie  felt 
something  almost  like  fear  at  his 
coming.  It  seemed  like  the  entrance 
into  their  happy  life  of  some  mystery 


GO    FORTH    AND    FIND. 


which  might  enfold  unknown  evils. 
She  was  rapidly  sinking  into  abject 
melancholy  when  a  lovely  thing,  with 
a  long  slanting  sail  glowing  red  in 
the  low  sunlight,  came  gliding  swiftly 
toward  the  shore.  It  looked  like 
some  gay  tropical  bird  that,  sailing 
now  on  the  blue  sea,  might  at  any 
moment  spread  its  wings  and  fly  away 
to  the  blue  heaven  above.  It  seemed 
a  sentient  thing,  alive  and  full  of 
joy. 

Bessie  ran  quickly  up  on  to  the 
wharf.  As  the  boat  came  nearer  she 
saw  Jack  lying  at  full  length  on  the 
deck.  There  were  two  other  men 
aboard.  One  was  the  boatman,  dark 
and  swarthy,  with  bare  and  brawny 
arms;  the  other  was  Ned.  As  they 
touched  the  wharf  Jack  sprang 
ashore  and  ran  to  meet  Bessie.  After 
the  first  greeting,  she  said: 

"Aren't  you  going  to  help  them?" 
"Oh,  no,"  he  replied,  "leave  that 
to  Ned.  He  has  spent  most  of  his 
time  for  the  last  two  years  sailing  in 
that  sort  of  thing  on  the  Mediter- 
ranean. He  has  sailed  her  all  the 
way,  and  I  feel  that  she  belongs  to 


8  "  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

him.     Bessie,"  he  added,   "you  will 
be  glad  to  see  Ned,  won't  you?" 

It  was  not  a  question,  but  a  request, 
and  she  smiled  an  answer  as  the  boat 
swung  into  its  place  and  they  turned 
to  meet  their  guest.  Ned  looked  ten 
years  older  than  Jack.  He  had  dark 
hair,  already  so  gray  as  to  be  almost 
light.  His  face  was  bronzed  by 
exposure  to  wind  and  sun,  but  still 
delicate  and  refined  almost  to  effemi- 
nacy. There  was  a  droop  about  the 
mouth  that  was  not  pleasing,  and  a 
stiff,  formal  expression  in  the  face 
which  Bessie  somehow  knew  had  not 
been  there  until  she  appeared.  She 
understood  him  in  part  at  least,  in 
an  instant.  He  was  one  of  those  men 
whom  women  instinctively  adore, 
and  who  as  instinctively  dread  the 
adoration  to  which  they  are  subjected. 
He  was,  she  felt  sure,  not  a  woman 
lover,  if  he  was  not  a  woman  hater. 
She  saw  it  and  laughed  to  herself, 
because  she  knew  that  he  had  nothing 
to  fear  from  her.  Jack  and  she  were 
such  good  friends  that  she  could  meet 
his  friends  with  the  same  cordial 
comradeship  as  though  she  had  been 


GO    FORTH    AND    FIND. 


his  brother.  Without  waiting  for  an 
introduction  she  went  up  to  Ned  and 
held  out  her  hand. 

"I  am  much  obliged  to  you  for 
bringing  Jack  safely  home,"  she 
said;  "I  am  very  glad  indeed  that 
you  have  come  to  El  Ermita." 

She  looked  him  straight  in  the 
eyes  in  a  manly  sort  of  way,  and 
instantly  his  eyes  answered  with  a 
frank  smile  although  his  mouth  did 
not  smile.  He  shook  her  hand  cordi- 
ally and  they  all  went  up  to  the  house, 
talking  about  the  sail  down,  the 
boat,  and  other  indifferent  subjects. 
They  stopped  on  the  way  to  look  at 
the  hyacinths  which,  having  been 
planted  late,  were  just  coming  up. 

Bessie  did  not  play  the  hostess  in 
any  way,  feeling  sure  that  he  would 
not  be  so  comfortable  if  she  made 
him  feel  that  he  was  her  guest. 

After  dinner  they  sat  for  a  little 
while  on  the  porch;  then  Jack  and 
Bessie,  having  many  things  to  talk 
over  and  it  being  a  little  cool,  went 
into  the  sitting  room;  Ned  lighted 
a  fresh  cigar  and  started  off  down 
toward  the  sea.  The  rooms  of  the 


10          "GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

house  all  opened  on  to  the  porch 
which  served  instead  of  a  hall;  they 
were  therefore  not  surprised  that  they 
saw  nothing  more  of  him  that  night. 

The  night  was  far  spent  when  they 
were  wakened  by  hearing  a  voice, 
singing  high  up  on  the  cliffs,  singing 
aloud  to  the  earth  and  sky  and  sea. 

"What  is  it?"  Bessie  whispered 
to  Jack.  "Is  it  Ned?" 

"Yes,  dearest,"  he  answered,  and 
added,  "Poor  Ned!"  and  sighed. 

Soon  after,  his  footsteps  passed 
their  room  on  the  way  to  his  own. 

In  the  morning  while  Bessie  sat 
combing  her  hair  before  her  dressing 
table  Jack  came  and  stood  behind 
her,  looking  down  into  her  eyes  in 
the  mirror  with  such  a  solemn  expres- 
sion that  it  troubled  her.  Then  he 
took  her  head  between  his  hands  and 
kissed  the  soft  dark  locks. 

"Bessie,"  he  said,  "it  seems  al- 
most selfish  to  thank  God  for  having 
given  you  to  me.  What  have  I  done 
to  deserve  it?  You  make  or  mar  us, 
dear.  We  are  all,  all  in  your  hands. ' ' 

"Oh,  Jack,  don't  say  such  dread- 
ful things.  You  terrify  me  when 


"  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND.  II 

you  put  such  responsibility  upon  me. 
What  shall  1  do?" 

"Nothing,"  he  answered;  "it  is  not 
what  you  do,  but  what  you  are,  dear 
love." 

Then,  although  he  said  no  more, 
Bessie  thought  she  knew  what  it  was 
that  had  warped  out  of  all  usefulness 
the  life  of  his  friend. 


II. 


HE  coast  of  California, 
from  the  cliffs  that  run  out 
from  the  northern  shores 
of  Monterey  3ay  to  the 
pebbly  beaches  of  Pes- 
cadero,  is  one  long  stretch  of  sandy 
headland.  For  countless  years  the 
waves  have  dashed  themselves  against 
the  crumbly  cliffs,  mining  into  them 
ragged  coves  and  curving  out  beds 
for  beaches  of  white  sand.  A  road 
runs  along  the  cliff,  sometimes  creep- 
ing to  the  very  edge  and  almost 
moistened  by  the  spray  of  the  break- 
ing waves,  or  losing  itself  mid  clumps 
of  live  oak  in  the  inland  ravines. 
Back  from  the  shores  rounded  hills 
rise  smooth  and  peaceful,  and  above 
them,  farther  back,  clothed  in  blue 
mist,  an  occasional  jagged  peak 
touches  the  clouds.  Mountain 


"GO    FORTH    AND    FIND.  13 

streams  come  tumbling  down  the 
canons  through  luxurious  growth  of 
trees,  flowers,  and  ferns  to  the  white 
sand  and  the  sea. 

In  the  early  days  the  Spaniards  and 
Indians  used  the  valleys  and  hills  be- 
tween sea  and  mountains  for  their 
ranches.  Their  cattle  grazed  on  the 
hills  and  in  the  valleys  nestled  their 
homes.  Later  the  Americans  came. 
They  established  dairy  farms  at  the 
old  haciendas  and  attempted  to  graft 
on  to  the  old  Spanish-Indian  civiliza- 
tion the  pushing  activity  which  they 
call  progress.  It  was  in  vain.  The 
genius  of  the  land  triumphed  over 
them.  Their  farms  are  deserted,  the 
herds  have  been  scattered,  and  the 
rude  houses  and  cow  sheds  have  fallen 
into  decay. 

Three  years  before  our  story  opens 
a  party  of  campers  were  loitering  on 
their  way  from  Santa  Cruz  to  Pes- 
cadero  through  this  country  and 
along  the  road  by  the  cliff.  The  sun 
was  low  in  the  west  and  the  bare  hills 
had  that  lonely  desolate  look  which 
makes  one  long  for  the  comfort  of  a 
fireside,  when  the  campers  came  sud- 


14  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND. 

denly  down  a  steep  hill  into  a  group 
of  live  oaks.  There  was  no  sign  of 
any  habitation  and  the  road  before 
them  rose  abruptly  to  the  highland. 
Toward  the  sea  opened  a  narrow 
defile  and  through  this  a  path  wound. 
Following  it  they  found  themselves 
in  a  dense  grove  of  cypress.  In  the 
gathering  twilight  the  place  seemed 
an  enchanted  forest.  Wierd  distorted 
trees  stretched  themselves  over  the 
ground  like  strange  monsters  held  in 
thrall  by  some  magician's  power; 
here  and  there  they  reached  their 
twisted  arms  high  into  the  air  as  if 
pleading  to  be  restored  to  their  right- 
ful position.  Beyond  the  grove  they 
found  a  low  adobe  building.  Its 
white  walls  and  windows  reflected  the 
rays  of  the  setting  sun.  It  looked 
out  on  a  long  stretch  of  meadow  land 
toward  the  sea.  Before  it  nestled  a. 
placid  lake,  and  about  it  rose  the 
cliffs,  bright  with  yellow  lilies  and 
purple  lupins.  Near  the  shore  were 
the  wind-swept  dunes  of  yellow  sand 
and  beyond  was  the  wide  plain  of  the 
Pacific. 

Many   were    the    exclamations   of 


"GO    FORTH    AND    FIND."  15 

delight  and  pleasure  made  by  all  of 
the  party,  but  one  among  them,  Jack 
Winthrop,  said  to  himself,  "Here 
will  I  rest,  and  roam  no  more,  for  this 
is  home."  When,  after  a  few  days, 
the  rest  of  the  party  prepared  to  go 
on,  he  told  them  that  he  had  decided 
to  return  by  way  of  Santa  Cruz,  and 
bade  them  good-by. 

Winthrop' s  work,  which  was  liter- 
ary, was  such  that  it  could  go  with 
him  wherever  he  went,  and  he  was 
fascinated  with  the  idea  of  making 
this  deserted  dairy  farm  his  home. 
He  and  Bessie  talked  it  over.  He 
gave  her  the  most  glowing  descrip- 
tion of  the  place  and  of  the  manifold 
delights  to  be  found  there.  She  con- 
sented that  it  should  be  their  home, 
but  knowing  that  a  man  who  wishes 
to  do  anything  in  the  world  must 
himself  be  a  part  of  it,  insisted  that 
they  should  plan  to  spend  some  part 
of  every  year  in  the  busy  places  of 
the  workaday  world.  There  was 
little  or  no  trouble  about  making  the 
purchase.  It  was  at  first  to  be  a 
bachelor  establishment,  but  every- 
thing was  planned  for  the  time, 

^Mfc5 

/f-V       OF  THM 


l6          "  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND. 


which  was  soon  to  be,  when  it 
should  be  more.  They  called  it  El 
Ermita. 

Early  the  next  summer  Jack  and 
Bessie  were  married.  They  went 
immediately  to  El  Ermita  and  spent 
a  long  delicious  summer  wandering 
on  the  shore,  climbing  the  cliffs,  and, 
between  working  and  playing,  became 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  each 
other,  happily  finding  that  they  were 
more  than  lovers — the  best  and  dear- 
est of  friends. 

Three  years  saw  many  changes  in 
the  place.  The  meadow  in  front 
was  divided  by.  the  stream  that 
came  clear  and  cold  from  the  moun- 
tain, and  there  had  been  planted  on 
its  farther  bank  a  hedge  of  Japanese 
bamboo.  Lovely  yellow  marigolds 
tossed  their  gay  heads  and  laughed 
along  the  shore  of  the  lagoon,  to 
which  a  broad  path  lined  with  frag- 
rant flowers  led  the  way.  The  old 
adobe  house  had  not  been  changed 
in  character;  the  porch  had  been 
widened,  the  red  tiled  roof  brought 
out,  on  its  own  gentle  indolent  slope, 
to  make  a  great  out-of-doors  sitting 


"  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND."          17 

room.  They  lived  in  this  room. 
The  air  came  to  them  laden  with  the 
perfume  of  all  the  sweetest  flowers 
and  vitalized  by  the  strong  salt 
breath  of  the  ocean.  A  hammock 
swung  in  a  rustic  arbor  which  was 
so  covered  by  the  quick  growing  pas- 
sion vine  that  it  might  have  been 
built  by  the  Spaniards  a  hundred 
years  before.  Inside  the  house  the 
floors  were  covered  with  fresh  mat- 
ting and  the  windows  hung  with  gay 
chintz,  while  everything  was  homely 
in  its  best  and  most  useful  sense. 
The  great  rambling  sitting  room  was 
an  especial  delight  to  them.  It  was 
long  and  low.  The  ceiling,  which 
was  barely  high  enough  at  the  walls 
to  allow  Jack  to  stretch  his  six  feet 
two  upy  straight,  sloped  unevenly 
toward  the  roof,  and  the  room  itself, 
after  running  for  thirty  feet  along  the 
southern  porch,  wandered  off  around 
a  corner  to  the  east.  When  the 
Winthrops  first  came  there,  the  fire- 
place was  simply  a  place  for  a  fire, 
with  a  rough-hewn  board  for  a 
mantle  shelf.  Fortunately  it  was  in 
the  corner  of  the  room  and  was  very 


l8          "  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND.' 


large,  and  they  had  made  of  it  an 
inglenook  to  warm  one's  heart  in. 
It  was  made  of  redwood  and  gray 
tiles.  On  one  side  were  shelves  for 
magazines  and  papers,  on  the  other 
a  deep  easy-chair,  that  seemed  to 
wait  for  some  white-haired  old  grand- 
father. The  shelf  at  the  top  was  gay 
with  brass  candlesticks  and  bits  of 
china,  while  into  the  broad  chim- 
ney breast  was  etched  in  quaint 
Old  English  Spenser's  alluring  invi- 
tation: 

"  O  turne  thy  rudder  hetherward  awhile, 
Here   may   thy   storme-bett  vessell   safely 

ryde  ; 
This  is   the   Port   of   rest    from  troublous 

toyle, 

The  worlde's  sweet  In  from  paine  and  weari- 
some turmoyle." 

A  couch  and  window  seat,  all  in 
one,  occupied  the  corner  opposite  the 
fireplace.  It  was  low  and  was  piled 
full  of  cushions,  some  of  which  were 
filled  with  fragrant  lavender.  The 
rough  plaster  walls  were  soft  gray ; 
the  woodwork  was  everywhere  red- 
wood, its  beautiful  pink  color  un- 
spoiled by  varnish.  The  furniture 


"GO    FORTH    AND    FIND.  19 

was  bronzed  rattan,  comfortable  and 
simple.  All  day  long  the  doors  and 
windows  stood  open;  the  songs  of 
birds  and  the  perfume  of  roses  filled 
the  air. 


III. 

ATURALLY,  since  it  must 
have  been  four  o'clock 
when  Ned  went  to  bed, 
they  were  not  surprised 
that  he  did  not  appear  the 
next  morning,  but  when  Bessie  gave 
Dan  instructions  to  give  him  his 
breakfast  whenever  he  should  be 
ready  for  it,  Dan  said: 

"Oh,  he  done  had  he  breakfast 
long  'go  and  gone  sailin'  in  de  boat 
'long  ob  dat  Tony." 

"Nevermind,  Bessie,"  said  Jack, 
"just  let  him  alone;  he  is  so  used  to 
going  and  coming  without  any  idea 
of  time  or  hours  that  it  would  bore 
him  to  feel  that  he  was  obliged  to 
conform  to  conventional  rules,  and, 
you  know,  dear,  I  want  him  to  be 
happy  here.  I  am  sure  that  it  will 
do  him  good  to  stay  with  us.  I 


"GO    FORTH    AND    FIND.  21 

mean,"  he  laughingly  added,  "with 
you,  of  course." 

Bessie  smiled.  "I  will  do  the  best 
I  can,  of  course,  Jack,  but  just  at 
present  that  would*  seem  to  be 
nothing  at  all." 

She  put  on  her  big  hat,  took  her 
gloves,  scissors,  and  some  twine  and, 
calling  to  Janet  to  bring  the  baby 
out  into  the  garden,  went  to  work 
tying  up  the  sweet  peas  while  Jack 
lit  a  cigar  and  strolled  off  down  to 
the  beach,  being  in  the  mind  to  take 
a  holiday  in  Ned's  honor  if  he  could 
find  him. 

When  he  reached  the  beach  he  saw 
the  bright  sail  just  coming  in  with  a 
brisk  breeze,  Ned  looking  as  con- 
tented as  possible,  with  the  tiller  in 
his  hand.  He  went  down  to  the 
wharf  and  Tony  held  up  with  pride 
the  shining  pompanoes  which  they 
had  brought  in. 

"Jack,"  said  Ned,  "do  you  know 
this  is  a  veritable  paradise  that  you 
have  found  here.  It  has  every  requi- 
site, even  to  the  one  most  necessary 
to  my  idea  of  paradise — it  is  appar- 
ently uninhabited.  Why  it  seemed 


22  "GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

to  me  as  if  we  were  on  a  voyage  of 
discovery  this  morning." 

"You  will  find  that  it  has  been  dis- 
covered not  once,  but  several  times, 
and  each  discoverer  has  left  his  mark 
on  it.  But  the  best  of  the  sea  and 
hills  is  that  they  are  discoveries  for 
each  one  of  us,  new  every  day." 

"What  a  strange  formation  this 
coast  has,"  said  Ned.  "It  seems  to 
be  nothing  but  piled  up  sand  with 
now  and  again  a  few  rocks  or  stones 
in  it.  I  do  not  see  how  that  soft 
sandstone  makes  any  resistance  to 
the  heavy  seas.  Does  it  change  very 
fast?" 

"I  do  not  know,"  said  Jack. 
"This  is  the  second  summer  which 
we  have  spent  here,  and  I  do  not  see 
that  there  is  any  change  yet.  Yes, 
there  is  too,"  he  added.  "The 
rocks  have  fallen  there,  where  you 
see  that  little  island  yonder  with  the 
large  rocks  between  it  and  the  main- 
land; that  was  what  we  call  a  natural 
bridge  when  I  first  came  here,  three 
years  ago  next  July." 

"At  that  rate  I  would  not  take  a 
lease  of  El  Ermita  for  five  hundred 


"  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND.  23 

years,"  said  Ned.  "I  am  afraid 
there  would  be  nothing  but  water 
lots." 

"I  do  not  concern  myself  about 
things  five  hundred  years  from  now," 
said  Jack,  "and  although  the  coast  is 
certainly  changing  and  being  honey- 
combed into  caves  and  beaches,  I 
think  that  it  will  last  our  time.  Why 
Bessie,"  as  they  came  suddenly  up 
to  where  she  was  working,  "why  do 
you  work  so  hard?  You  look  so 
warm  and  tired." 

"I  have  done  enough  for  to-day," 
she  answered,  rising  and  looking  with 
pride  at  the  long  line  of  vines  which 
she  had  tied.  She  gathered  up0  her 
twine  and  scissors  and  walked  beside 
them  toward  the  house. 

"I  heard  you  talking  about  the 
caves,  Jack,"  she  said.  "I  have 
found  the  most  wonderful  cave.  You 
have  to  go  out  around  the  farthest 
line  of  rocks  beyond  the  next  beach, 
when  the  tide  is  very  low.  I  went 
into  it  a  long  way  and  came  to  a  little 
hill  of  sand  which  was  quite  dry;  I 
do  not  believe  that  the  tide  ever  gets 
high  enough  to  wet  it  and  I  am  almost 


sure  that  I  saw  light  glimmering  in 
the  farthest  end,  but  I  was  afraid  to 
go  in  alone." 

"I  will  go  with  you  the  next  low 
tide,"  said  Ned,  and  then  he  told 
them  of  some  wonderful  caves  which 
he  had  seen  the  summer  before  on 
the  coast  of  Norway.  Bessie  listened, 
but  was  still  enthusiastic  about  hers 
as  she  called  them,  the  lovely  colors 
of  their  walls,  the  exquisite  sea- 
mosses  hanging  from  their  rocks,  and 
all  the  tiny  sea-folk  that  have  their 
homes  there.  So,  strolling  along, 
they  reached  the  house  and  went  in 
to  luncheon. 

It?  soon  appeared  that  Ned  was 
perfectly  satisfied  to  drop  into  a  place 
as  one  of  the  family;  to  come  or  go 
as  he  chose.  He  rambled  about  all 
over  the  country,  sometimes  alone, 
sometimes  joining  Jack  and  Bessie, 
but  always  following  his  own  inclina- 
tion in  the  matter. 

When  he  had  been  at  El  Ermita 
for  a  week  or  so  Jack  said: 

"Bessie,  Ned  and  I  are  going  up 
to  Eagle's  Nest.  Do  you  feel  like 
coming?" 


"GO    FORTH    AND    FIND.  25 

She  hesitated  for  a  second  because 
she  knew  that  Ned  would  enjoy  it 
more  if  she  did  not  go,  but  then  she 
also  knew  that  she  would  not  at  all 
enjoy  being  left  behind.  Jack  and 
she  had  always  gone  together  and, 
determining  not  to  let  the  wedge  of  a 
change  enter  their  contented  life,  she 
answered  merrily: 

"I?  Of  course  I  want  to  go. 
When  will  you  start?" 

1 ' In  about  ten  minutes, ' '  Jack  said. 

When  they  were  ready,  there  was 
Bessie  also  in  her  simple  blue  climb- 
ing dress  with  her  alpenstock  in  her 
hand,  and  a  tiny  basket  over  her 
shoulder  in  which  were  pate  sand- 
wiches and  a  thimbleful  of  sherry 
with  which  they  could  refresh  them- 
selves after  the  climb. 

Jack  and  Ned  fell  naturally  to  talk- 
ing of  old  times  and  old  friends;  they 
had  tramped  about  so  much  together 
that  time  seemed  to  slip  away  from 
them  and  to  leave  them  the  careless 
students  of  other  days.  Bessie  had 
a  happy  faculty  of  being  about  and 
yet  not  claiming  constant  attention. 
She  had  her  own  interests  and  liked 


26  "GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

to  enjoy  them  and  let  Jack  enjoy  his, 
although  she  wanted  him  near  enough 
to  protect  her  in  case  either  of  her 
pet  horrors,  namely  snakes  or  bulls, 
appeared.  She  was  collecting  ferns 
and  had  brought  her  trowel  and 
basket,  and,  as  their  way  lay  along  the 
banks  of  the  little  stream,  she  stopped 
to  dig  any  fine  roots  which  she  saw; 
so  she  was  sometimes  quite  ahead  of 
them  and  sometimes  quite  behind. 
When  she  looked  around  and  did  not 
see  Jack,  she  whistled  a  little  call  to 
him  which  he  instantly  answered  and 
then  she  went  contentedly  on.  It 
must  be  noted  that  although  Jack 
was  engrossed  in  his  talk  with  Ned 
he  never  really  lost  sight  of  the  flut- 
tering ribbons  on  Bessie's  gay  little 
head. 

After  rather  a  long  climb  they  ar- 
rived at  the  top  of  the  mountain,  a 
bare  crag  with  only  a  few  scraggy 
trees  in  which  are  some  old  eagles' 
nests.  They  threw  themselves  down 
on  the  warm  rocks,  and  Bessie  took 
her  hat  off  to  fan  herself.  The  view 
was  matchless;  all  around  beneath 
them  were  the  soft  hills  green  with 


"GO    FORTH    AND    FIND.  27 

the  verdure  of  the  early  summer, 
looking  like  the  tender  breasts  of 
Mother  Earth  on  which  her  tired 
children  could  find  sweet  repose; 
lower  down  were  the  woods  and 
rocks  and  the  strip  of  beach  with  its 
long  lines  of  white  foam,  and  then 
beyond,  the  wonderful  heaving, 
changing  sea. 

Ned  seemed  to  be  transformed. 
The  last  shade  of  discontent  and 
moodiness  left  his  face  and  he  was 
almost  gay.  They  ate  the  sand- 
wiches, then  Bessie  filled  the  cup  from 
her  flask  and  holding  it  up  said 
solemnly: 

"This  is  a  magic  cup.  Listen,  oh 
mountain  and  sea!  Here  we  three 
in  your  presence  promise  to  be  always 
loyal  and  true." 

She  drank  a  little  and  handed  it  to 
Jack  who  laughingly  said:  "I  prom- 
ise!" and  drank,  then  passed  it  on  to 
Ned.  He  took  it  with  just  a  sus- 
picion of  hesitation,  then  bowing 
gravely  to  Bessie  said:  "I  promise!" 
and  finished  the  cup,  which  he  held 
upside  down  to  show  that  it  was 
empty  before  he  handed  it  back. 


28  "GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

Then  Bessie  told  them  in  her  own 
gay  manner  a  story  of  Frank  Stock- 
ton's which  she  had  read  the  night 
before,  and  they  sat  and  watched  the 
sun  drop  off  to  the  western  sky.  The 
sea,  so  blue,  was  beginning  to  take 
on  a  silvery  hue  in  the  slanting  rays, 
and  above  the  red  light  in  the  west, 
floating  apparently  in  liquid  light, 
shone  the  steadfast  evening  star. 

Presently,  without  any  word,  Ned, 
who  was  lying  face  upward  on  the 
rocks,  a  little  below  where  Jack  and 
Bessie  were  sitting,  began  to  sing. 
He  sang  Wolfram's  song  from 
"Tannhauser" : 

"  O  du  mein  holder  Abendstern 
Wohl  griisst  ich  immer  dich  so  gern, 
Vom  Herzen  das  sie  nieverreith 
Griisse  sie  wenn  sie  vorbei  dir  zieht. 
Wenn  sie  entschwebt  dem  Thai  der  Erden, 
Ein  selger  Engel  dort  zu  werden, 
Wenn  sie  entschwebt  dem  Thai  der  Erden, 
Ein  selger  Engel  dort  zu  werden." 

The  effect  was  indescribable.  His 
voice,  so  true,  with  its  manly  strength, 
its  penetrating  sympathy,  can  best  be 
described  by  the  one  word  satisfying. 
It  was  in  harmony  with  all  around; 


"GO    FORTH    AND    FIND."  29 

the  heaven  bending  over  them,  the 
sea  reflecting  back  to  its  home  in  the 
sky  the  light  that  suffused  it;  the 
now  darkening  mountain  and  even 
the  withered  old  trees,  all  seemed  to 
listen  and  give  thanks  for  this  beauti- 
ful evening  song.  No  music  within 
the  walls  of  a  stifling  theater  ever  had 
such  audience  or  gave  such  joy. 
Bessie's  hand  stole  into  Jack's  and 
they  sat  quite  still  until  the  last  note 
was  silent,  then  they  all  went  quietly 
down  and  home  in  the  gloaming; 
and  it  seemed  to  them  that  some 
mysterious  bond  was  made  between 
them;  that  their  lives  had  grown 
together  as  in  the  twisted  strands  of 
a  rope  that  should  not  easily  be 
broken. 


IV. 

"  Oh,  stay,  oh,  stay  ! 
Joy  so  seldom  weaves  a  chain 
Like  this,  that  oh,  'tis  pain 
To  break  its  links  too  soon." 

FORTNIGHT  or  so  had 
passed  away  when  Ned, 
coming  in  from  the  cypress 
grove  one  day,  said: 

"Jack,  there  is  a  little 
cabin  out  on  the  edge  of  the  cypress 
wood  which  I  wish  that  you  would 
give  to  me  for  the  summer.  I  can- 
not think  of  going  away,  and  I  want 
to  go  to  work.  Something  in  this 
bracing  sea  air  fills  me  with  enthu- 
siasm, and  I  think  that  place  would 
make  just  the  right  sort  of  a  work- 
shop for  me." 

Bessie  opened    her  lips   to   speak, 
evidently  in  protest,  but  Jack  said: 

"Certainly,  Ned,  do  whatever  you 
please." 


"  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND."  31 


Bessie  instantly  took  her  cue  from 
Jack  and  asked : 

"Can  I  help  you  to  prepare  it? 
What  kind  of  workshop  do  you  mean 
to  have?" 

Ned  smiled  a  little  and  said:  "No, 
you  cannot  help  me,  because  it  is  to 
be  only  and  really  a  place  to  work  in, 
and  Tony  and  I  will  do  all  that  is 
necessary.  I  will  send  to  Santa  Cruz 
for  all  I  need." 

For  a  week  or  so  Tony  swept  and 
aired  the  cabin  and  made  huge  fires 
in  the  fireplace.  Then  there  arrived 
from  Santa  Cruz  a  wagonload  of 
things,  chief  among  which  Bessie  saw 
a  small  upright  piano. 

"This  is  really  too  absurd,  Ned," 
said  she.  "You  know  that  my  piano 
is  just  longing  to  have  someone  play 
on  it,  and  it  would  be  such  a  pleasure 
to  me  if  you  would  use  it. ' ' 

"I  know,"  he  said,  "but  you  do 
not  quite  understand  ;  this  is  part  of 
my  working  outfit.  You  must  know, 
my  dear  Mrs.  VVinthrop,  that  I  am 
writing  an  opera,  or  something  which 
I  call  by  that  name.  Now  you  see 
one  does  not  use  a  splendid  Steinway 


32  "  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

like  yours  for  work  of  that  sort.  I 
do  not  really  play  on  the  piano,  I 
only  use  it  in  working  out  my  har- 
monies." 

Bessie  had  been  listening  to  him 
with  wide,  interested  eyes.  "An 
opera!"  she  began;  "will  you  tell  me 
about  it — your  opera?" 

"Yes,"  he  said;  "there  is  not  much 
done  on  it  yet,  but  I  will  tell  you 
about  it  this  evening  and  then  you 
will  understand  why  this  is  just  the 
place  for  me  to  work,  because  I  want 
the  sea  and  the  wind  and  the  trees." 

Bessie  went  back  to  the  porch  well 
content.  That  evening,  while  they 
were  sitting  together  after  dinner, 
Ned  told  them  about  his  work. 

"When  I  was  studying  in  Munich," 
he  began,  ''the  idea  took  possession 
of  me  that  operas  as  they  are  gener- 
ally written  and  sung  are,  to  a  great 
extent,  inartistic.  At  last  it  became 
impossible  for  me  to  listen  to  any  one 
of  them,  even  'Lohengrin'  or  'The 
Flying  Dutchman,'  without  continu- 
ally thinking  of  the  crudeness,  not 
indeed  of  these  masterpieces  of  the 
great  Master,  but  of  the  underlying, 


"GO    FORTH    AND    FIND.  33 

fundamental  idea  of  the  opera  itself. 
The  absurdity  of  a  composition  in 
which,  under  all  varied  circumstan- 
ces which  can  arise,  the  actors  are 
represented  as  singing,  is  manifest. 
Yet,  I  reasoned,  it  is  not  that  all 
emotions  are  not  fittingly  expressed 
by  music;  they  are,  from  the  strong- 
est to  the  very  lightest,  and  far  better 
than  by  spoken  words  or  gestures. 
How  then,  I  asked  myself,  can  we 
represent  on  the  stage  most  power- 
fully and  perfectly  events  which  in- 
volve human  passions  and  emotions 
and  yet  not  offend  natural  expres- 
sion? I  came  at  length  to  have  a 
well  formed  theory  as  to  how  it  could 
be  done,  and  partly  to  satisfy  myself 
and  partly  in  the  real  hope  of  accom- 
plishing something,  I  have  planned  a 
musical  composition  in  which  the 
scenes  are  represented  by  tableaux, 
the  characters  by  actors,  but  in  which 
the  music,  almost  entirely  orchestral, 
shall  be  what  the  soul  is  to  the  body, 
in  its  essence  expressing,  as  strongly 
as  possible,  the  feelings  and  passions 
of  the  actors,  while  it  also  furnishes 
the  atmosphere  and  background, 


34          "GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

which  are  like  the  play  of  the  emo- 
tions of  the  soul  on  the  face  of  a 
man. 

"There  is  to  be  no  singing  in  the 
accepted  meaning  of  the  word,  ex- 
cept when  there  would  naturally  be 
in  real  life ;  when  other  words  are 
actually  necessary,  they  will  be  said 
or  chanted  rhythmically  in  harmony 
with  the  music.  I  have  chosen  the 
story  of  Tristram  and  Yseult  because 
it  is  so  suited  to  that  kind  of  expres- 
sion, but  I  believe  that  almost  any 
other  could  also  be  given  in  the  same 
manner.  I  worked  at  it  quite  steadily 
for  a  little  while  before  I  went  to  Nor- 
way last  summer,  then  threw  it  aside. 
Since  I  have  been  here  it  comes  back 
to  me  as  something  which  must  be 
done.  Perhaps  I  shall  finish  it,"  he 
added  half  to  himself,  being  already 
absorbed  in  looking  over  the  manu- 
scripts which  he  had  brought  in.  He 
began  to  read  the  libretto  and  went 
on: 

"I  have  taken  Swinburne's  words 
whenever  I  could,  although  I  have 
not  followed  strictly  his  version  of 
the  story  because  it  does  not  lend 


"  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND."          35 

itself  so  well  to  my  purpose,  but  for 
the  first  act  it  is  perfect,  and  I  have 
opened  the  first  scene  on  the  deck  of 
the  ship  at  the  moment  when,  inno- 
cent and  thoughtless,  Yseult  is  sailing 
over  a  calm  sea  toward  Cornwall. 
Tristram  sings  to  divert  her  and  make 
the  time  less  wearisome.  Here  I 
have  taken  a  part  of  one  of  the  songs 
as  Swinburne  has  written  it  and  set 
it  to  music  with  harp  accompaniment. 
Some  of  the  tableaux  are  fixed  and 
some  moving,  and  this  of  course 
leaves  a  great  deal  to  the  scenic  man- 
ager, but  that  is  nothing;  there  is 
very  little  that  cannot  be  represented 
nowadays.  The  music,  however,  ex- 
presses everything;  in  the  beginning 
it  is  gay  and  light,  having  the  motion 
and  sound  of  the  waves  all  through 
the  happy  little  scene  between  Tris- 
tram and  Yseult.  Then  the  storm 
comes  and  the  scene  changes;  the 
ocean  roars  and  the  wind  shrieks,  but 
there  is  no  singing,  and  when  the  sea 
grows  calm  and  Tristram,  weary  with 
his  exertions,  seeks  Yseult,  the  few 
necessary  words  are  spoken,  only  the 
music  sounds  a  note  of  alarm  as  if  to 


36          "  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

call  a  soldier  to  his  duty  and  the  sun 
gleams  out  luridly  from  beneath  the 
clouds  while  Yseult  empties  the  fatal 
vial,  drinks  and  gives  it  to  Tristram  to 
drink.  Now  every  sound  ceases  for 
an  instant;  the  violins  and  flutes 
begin  a  soft,  sensuous  melody,  keep- 
ing always  the  movement  of  the 
waves  while  they  stand  looking  into 
each  others  eyes,  wrapt  forevermore 
from  all  the  rest  of  the  world,  bound 
forever  to  each  other.  No  useless 
word  is  spoken  or  sung.  Right  here 
I  have  written  what  I  call  'A  Song 
of  the  Sirens/  but  I  am  not  sure 
that  I  shall  use  it ;  my  intention  was 
to  have  it  either  played  by  flutes  or 
sung  by  unseen  women.  It  is  a 
kind  of  exultation  of  evil  spirits 
over  the  downfall  of  the  great  knight 
and  the  lovely  lady.  Of  course  I 
write  a  great  many  things  that  I  find 
are  not  suitable  because,  in  spite  of 
myself,  I  fall  into  the  conventional 
lines.  There  is  no  hurry,  how- 
ever." 

"The  idea  is  very  good,"  Jack 
said,  "and  I  would  like  to  see  such 
an  opera,  but  I  am  afraid  that  very 


"  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND."  37 

few  people  would  know  what  it  was 
about." 

"You  are  mistaken,"  Ned  an- 
swered ;  "just  as  many  people  would 
understand  it  as  understand  a  beau- 
tiful picture  or  a  grand  poem  or 
a  wonderful  sunset.  That  is,"  he 
added,  smiling,  '  'no  one  would  under- 
stand it  in  the  same  way  that  I  do, 
but  it  would  be  a  true  thing,  so  each 
one  could  take  something  true  from 
it — whatever  he  wanted  or  was  able 
to." 

"Have  you  brought  some  of  the 
music  in  to  play  or  sing  for  us?" 
Bessie  asked. 

"No,  not  exactly,"  he  said;  "I 
found  one  scene  in  my  trunk  when  I 
was  looking  for  the  libretto.  It  is  the 
one  where  Yseultis  alone  in  Tintagle 
after  she  is  separated  from  Tristram. 
I  have  worked  out  my  idea  more 
completely  in  that  than  in  any  other 
part,  because  she  is  alone  through 
the  whole  scene,  and  her  words  are 
spoken  or  chanted  more  as  an  ac- 
companiment to  the  grand  music  of 
the  wind  and  the  waves  than  as 
claiming  prior  attention.  I  cannot 


38          "GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

sing  it  myself  and  could  give  you 
little  idea  of  it  with  my  violin;  besides 
it  is  unfinished,"  he  said,  holding 
it  in  his  hand  and  looking  it  over. 

"Ned,"  said  Jack,  "I  do  not 
quite  agree  with  you  in  this  idea,  any- 
way. I  think  that  singing  is  the 
natural  way  for  human  beings  to  ex- 
press their  emotions.  I  am  sure  that 
all  nations  and  people  have  sung;  all 
have  religious  or  praise  music;  all 
have  martial  music.  I  even  go 
further  and  think  that  all  animals 
sing,  or  make  little  happy  sounds 
when  things  are  well  with  them  and 
complaining  sounds  when  things  are 
wrong. ' ' 

"That  is  just  it,"  Ned  answered. 
"You  have  exactly  the  same  idea  that 
I  have,  only  differently  expressed.  It 
is  to  find  the  sounds  with  which  nature 
expresses  passion  truly  and  naturally 
that  I  am  striving,  whether  it  be  in 
song  or  in  shriek,  moan  or  mutter- 
ing. Of  course,"  he  added,  "it  is 
an  experiment  and  must  stand  or  fall 
by  its  own  strength." 

"I  think  it  very  true,"  said  Bessie, 
"that  sound  without  words  is  the 


"  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND."          39 

natural  way  to  express  one's  pleasure 
or  pain.  Take  Bertie,  for  instance: 
anyone  who  has  a  grain  of  sense 
would  know  whether  he  is  pleased 
and  happy  or  not.  And  as  far  as 
singing  is  concerned,  I  have  heard  a 
great  deal  that  people  thought  very 
wonderful,  which  was  really  worse 
to  hear,  if  you  listened  truly,  than  his 
most  frantic  screaming,  and  it  is 
very  easy  to  know  whether  that  ex- 
presses anger  or  grief  or  pain." 

"Well,"  said  Ned,  laughing,  "I 
will  remember  that  and  may  per- 
haps bring  my  violin  and  try  to  get 
his  most  frantic  screaming,  as  you 
call  it." 

"I  would  rather  have  you  catch 
his  softest  cooing,"  she  answered, 
smiling. 

There  followed  now  for  these 
people  of  our  story  three  months  of 
wonderful,  almost  impossible,  happi- 
ness. When  in  after  life  the  memory 
of  this  happiness  recurred  to  any  one 
of  them  it  always  seemed  like  a  dream, 
because  it  was  seen  through  a  veil 
which  rendered  it  intangible  and  un- 
real, and  also  because  they  knew  that 


40          "  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

it  could   not  be  a   second  time   ex- 
perienced. 

Jack  hoped  that  the  book  which  he 
was  then  writing  would  place  him 
side  by  side  with  the  foremost  writers 
of  fiction  of  the  day.  He  had  laid 
the  opening  scenes  in  a  little  village 
in  Norway  where  Ned  and  he  had 
spent  a  week  the  year  before  he  went 
to  Japan,  and  it  was  most  opportune 
that  Ned  should  have  come  just  now, 
because  their  long  talks  brought  back 
everything  to  him  fresh  and  strong; 
he  thought  that  the  effect  on  the 
story  was  good. 

Ned's  work  was  done  partly  in  the 
little  cabin,  from  which  Bessie,  swing- 
ing in  her  hammock  or.  perched  high 
upon  one  of  the  branches  of  an  ac- 
commodating cypress  tree,  would 
sometimes  hear  a  melody  softly 
played  on  the  violin  or  the  sound 
of  the  piano,  as  he  worked, on  the 
orchestration  of  his  composition. 
Much  of  his  work  was  also  done  upon 
the  cliffs  or  down  on  the  dripping 
rocks,  under  the  stars  as  often  as  by 
daylight. 

Each  went  his  own  way  until  about 


GO    FORTH    AND    FIND.  41 


three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  when, 
with  one  consent,  they  met  on  the 
sand  beyond  the  lagoon,  and  con- 
sulted as  to  what  brightest  pleasure 
the  day  offered.  Sometimes  it  was  a 
sail  on  the  enchanted  sea;  sometimes 
a  long  climb  on  the  cliffs  or  moun- 
tains, or  if  the  tide  was  very  low 
they  explored  the  caves  for  miles 
along  the  weather-beaten  coast. 

One  cave  in  particular  was  a 
delightful  place  during  the  hot  sum- 
mer afternoons ;  it  was  the  one  which 
Bessie  had  found  while  Jack  was 
away. 

The  entrance  to  it  could  only  be 
reached  when  the  tide  was  very  low ; 
a  spit  of  rocks  over  which  the  surf 
broke  defending  it  at  other  times. 
Once  inside,  however,  one  could 
walk  quite  a  long  way, stooping  a  little 
occasionally  to  pass  from  one  cham- 
ber to  another.  Near  the  end  was  a 
tiny  ascent  which  Bessie  called  a  hill, 
made  of  sand  almost  as  white  as  snow 
and  perfectly  dry.  She  always  said 
that  the  next  time  there  were  very 
low  tides  they  really  must  arrange  to 
stay  in  the  cave  over  one  tide  so  as 


42         "GO     FORTH     AND     FIND. 


to  see  how  high  the  water  came  up. 
But  that  "next  time"  did  not  come. 
The  walls  of  the  cave  were  very 
lovely,  shading  from  deep  purple  to 
pink  and  toned  with  soft  olives  and 
browns.  Bessie  used  to  sit  high  up 
on  the  white  sand  while  Jack  and 
Ned  lay  lower  down  at  full  length 
and  smoked  their  cigars.  She  enter- 
tained them  with  wonderful  stories 
which  she  loved  to  tell  just  as  they 
came  into  her  head.  Sometimes  they 
were  tales  of  mermaids  who  lived 
all  about  there  and  had  this  cave  for 
a  trysting  place  with  their  lovers; 
sometimes  she  invented  terrible 
stories  of  smugglers  whose  treasure 
was  buried  there,  while  their  bones 
lay  white  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea  and 
their  restless  ghosts  moaned  about 
the  cave  on  stormy  nights.  But 
chiefly,  being  always  at  heart  a  rebel 
against  all  government,  she  pictured 
oppressed  and  injured  people  flying 
from  their  enemies  and  taking  refuge 
in  the  cave ;  making  there  a  lovely 
home  and  issuing  thence  to  take 
dire  vengeance  on  their  cruel  foes. 
Having  a  great  fancy  for  giving  t 


"  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND.  43 

everything  a  name,  she  called  it 
"1'Asile." 

One  morning,  Jack  being  in  his 
study  and  Ned  in  the  cabin,  Bessie 
sat  down  to  work  at  one  of  Schu- 
mann's sonatas.  She  was  a  fair  mu- 
sician, and  had  been  playing  for  half 
an  hour  or  so  when  Ned  came  in 
with  his  violin  and  the  same  sonata 
arranged  for  piano  and  violin. 

"It  will  help  you,"  he  said,  and 
without  more  ado  commenced  to  play. 
Bessie  had  never  played  duets  and 
was  at  first  a  little  nervous,  but  Ned 
was  patient  and  she  enthusiastic,  so 
in  a  little  while  they  found  that  they 
had  a  new  and  great  pleasure  added 
to  their  daily  life;  it  became  the 
usual  close  of  the  day  that  Jack 
should  lie  on  the  couch  in  the  corner 
smoking  quietly  while  Bessie  and 
Ned  played  endlessly  until  the  wee 
small  hours.  Jack  was  so  happy  and 
proud  to  see  how  like  the  Ned  of  old 
times  his  friend  had  grown  under  the 
magic  influence  of  his  little  wife;  Ned 
was  so  truly  and  loyally  devoted  to 
Jack  and  to  Jack's  dear  wife,  and 
Bessie,  gay  and  debonair,  walked 


44         "  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND. 

softly,  as  if  on  holy  ground,  the  holy 
ground  trodden  indeed  always  by 
the  pure  in  heart. 

The  afternoons  were  growing 
shorter  and  the  low  sunlight  was  be- 
ginning to  take  its  ripe  autumn  tinge, 
when  one  day  in  September  the  three 
friends  came  in  from  a  stroll,  to  find 
in  the  porch  room  a  pile  of  letters 
which  had  just  come  up  from  Santa 
Cruz.  Each  became  immediately 
absorbed  in  his  own  until  an  excla- 
mation from  Bessie  made  the  others 
lay  their  letters  down  to  see  what  had 
happened. 

"Jack!"  she  said  holding  an  open 
letter  in  her  hand,  her  face  flushed 
with  excitement.  "What  do  you 
think?  It  is  from  Helen.  She  has 
been  at  home  for  a  week  and  is  com- 
ing down  here.  Oh,  I  am  so  glad  ! 
aren't  you,  Jack?" 

As  Bessie  spoke  she  looked  over  at 
Ned  and  saw  the  old  forbidding  look 
coming  into  his  face. 

"O  Ned!"  she  said,  "do  not  look 
like  that.  It  is  only  my  sister 
Helen." 

He  smiled  rather  sadly  and  said: 


"GO     FORTH     AND     FIND.  45 

"We  have  been  happy  for  a  long 
time.  Nothing  lasts  forever." 

"Helen  will  not  spoil  anything," 
Bessie  said.  "If  you  only  knew  her 
you  would  be  glad  that  she  is  com- 
ing." 

Then  getting  up  she  went  over  to 
him  and,  standing  very  near  to  him, 
said  softly: 

"Please,  dear  Ned,  do  not  let 
Helen's  coming  spoil  our  beautiful 
life." 

He  was  silent  for  a  moment  then 
his  eyes  smiled  into  her  face,  he  took 
her  little  hand  and  raised  it  to  his 
lips,  saying: 

"I  will  try,  dear  sister  Bessie." 

She  stood  still  looking  at  him  wist- 
fully, her  lips  parted  as  if  to  speak, 
but  with  some  strange  spell  upon 
them  that  kept  the  words  back. 
Many,  many  sad  hours  in  the  days 
to  come  did  Bessie  wonder  what  was 
the  fatal  seal  upon  her  lips,  why  did 
she  not  speak  then  when  speaking 
would  have  been  easy  and  natural 
and  would  have  saved 

She  had  an  undefined  feeling  that 
it  would  not  be  fair  to  Helen  because 


46         "GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

she  knew  quite  well  that  a  woman 
with  a  story  would  be  a  horror  to 
Ned.  In  her  excitement  she  had 
not  noticed  the  date  of  the  letter  nor 
what  day  Helen  said  that  she  would 
come.  She  was  still  standing  by 
Ned  with  an  earnest  questioning 
look,  which  he  was  waiting  for  her 
to  explain,  when  they  heard  the 
voice  of  a  driver  out  in  the  winding 
carriage  road  speaking  to  his  horses, 
and  in  another  minute  Helen  was 
there.  Bessie  rushed  down  from  the 
porch  and  clasped  her  in  her  arms 
almost  before  her  feet  touched  the 
ground,  and  kissing  her  lips  and 
cheeks  forgot  that  there  was  anything 
to  tell. 


V. 


'ELEN  MORRIS  was  Bes- 
sie's cousin  by  birth  and 
her  sister  by  adoption. 
Their  fathers,  who  were 
brothers,  came  to  San 
Francisco  together  in  1860,  and 
after  a  time  both  married  and  made 
their  homes  there.  They  were  part- 
ners in  business,  though  Helen's 
father,  being  some  years  the  elder, 
had  a  larger  interest  in  the  business. 
Fortunately  their  wives  were  con- 
genial so  they  lived  very  intimately, 
usually  taking  their  pleasures  to- 
gether. 

One  day,  when  Helen  was  about 
five  years  old,  the  two  brothers  went 
out  for  their  daily  ride  in  the  park 
and  along  the  beach.  The  horse 
which  the  elder  brother  rode  was  a 
new  one  which  he  was  trying,  intend- 


48        "GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

ing  to  purchase  it  if  it  proved  satis- 
factory. They  had  taken  a  brisk 
canter  through  one  of  the  bridle 
paths  and  were  riding  slowly  toward 
the  beach,  very  much  interested  in 
what  they  were  talking  about  and 
paying  little  attention  to  the  horses. 
As  they  came  around  the  curve  of 
Strawberry  Hill  some  men  unloaded, 
with  a  loud  crash,  a  wagon  full  of 
water  pipes.  The  strange  horse  took 
sudden  and  uncontrollable  fright, 
started  back  and  fell,  throwing  his 
rider  violently  against  a  pile  of  rocks, 
killing  him  instantly.  He  was  lifted 
up  and  taken  to  his  brother's  house, 
while  that  brother,  frantic  with  grief 
and  horror,  went  to  break  the  news 
to  his  wife. 

Bessie,  who  was  a  very  little  girl, 
always  remembered  quite  well  how 
they  brought  her  uncle  and  laid  him 
on  a  bed,  how  in  a  little  while  her 
father  came  leading  her  Aunt  Nellie, 
and  how  she  stood,  white  and  still, 
staring  at  the  bed,  then  stretching 
out  weak  and  helpless  hands,  sank 
down  on  to  the  floor.  She  remem- 
bered that  her  father  stooped  down 


"  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND."        49 

and  taking  her  aunt  up  in  his  arms 
carried  her  to  another  room;  that  in 
a  little  while  her  mother  came  and 
taking  her  hand  led  her  into  the 
gay,  bright  nursery  where  she  found 
Helen.  Her  mother  put  her  hand  in 
Helen's  and  said : 

"Bessie,  will  you  be  very  kind  and 
good  to  Helen  to-day,  for  we  are  in 
great  trouble?" 

Bessie  said,  "Mamma,  why  do  you 
cry  and  why  did  Aunt  Nellie  lie  on 
the  floor?"  Her  mother  only  said, 
"If  you  want  to  help  mamma  you 
will  be  very  good  to  Helen." 

Bessie  understood  that  there  was 
responsibility  placed  upon  her  and 
said  solemnly,  "I  will  be  good." 
When  her  mother  had  gone,  she  got 
out  her  best  teaset  and  they  made 
tea  for  the  dolls,  who  sat  around 
primly  in  their  various  carriages  and 
cradles.  When  the  little  girls  grew 
merry  over  their  play  and  laughed 
aloud  the  nurse  said  "Hush!"  and 
looked  at  them  strangely. 

Helen  stayed  with  Bessie  from  that 
day  and  neither  of  them  remembered 
very  much  more  of  what  passed,  be- 


50        "GO     FORTH     AND     FIND. 

cause  Bessie's  mother  was  too  wise 
to  sadden  life  for  them.  After  a 
brief  struggle  Helen's  mother,  un- 
able to  gather  up  her  shattered  life, 
let  it  slip  through  her  nerveless 
fingers.  Bessie's  father  and  mother 
came  one  day  into  the  nursery  where 
the  children  were  playing,  and  both 
looked  tired  and  very  sad.  Mr. 
Morris  took  Helen  upon  his  lap,  and 
laying  her  sunny  head  against  his 
breast,  smoothed  her  hair  and  kissed 
her.  At  this  Bessie  came  and  leaned 
against  him  too.  He  put  one  arm 
around  her  and  said,  "My  two  little 
girls,  my  two  little  daughters." 

Helen  and  Bessie  were  from  this 
time  practically  sisters.  They  were 
so  near  of  an  age  that  they  did  every- 
thing together,  had  everything  alike, 
but  while  they  did  not  think  of  it, 
they  knew  of  course  that  they  were 
not  sisters,  that  by  and  by,  when  they 
were  grown  up,  Helen  would  be  very 
rich,  because  her  father  had  left  large 
property,  and  Bessie  also  knew  that 
Helen  was  very  beautiful.  It  did 
not  make  much  impression  on  her 
because  she  was  herself  very  pretty, 


"  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND.  51 

and  then  she  knew  nothing  of  the 
power  of  beauty.  For  the  rest  they 
learned  the  things  that  most  girls 
learn,  went  to  the  same  school, 
learned  to  play  on  the  piano,  to  sing, 
to  dance,  and  swim;  in  short  studied 
all  that  fashion  or  custom  ordains, 
without  either  of  them  displaying 
especial  talent,  unless  Helen's  voice 
be  excepted.  That  was  a  gift,  pure 
and  simple.  It  was  a  rich  and  soft 
contralto,  and  might  have  been  very 
beautiful,  but  Helen  did  not  care 
for  music,  and  while  she  took  les- 
sons in  singing,  she  certainly  did  not 
study. 

Time  passed.  Helen  was  seven- 
teen; would  be  eighteen  in  the  coming 
winter,  and  it  was  decided  that  she 
might  go  to  Del  Monte  for  the  sum- 
mer, and  Bessie  being  yet  hardly  six- 
teen, was  to  be  "banished,','  so  she 
called  it,  to  the  farm  in  Sonoma. 
This  was  the  first  time  that  any  dif- 
ference had  been  made  between 
them,  and  Bessie's  heart  was  hot  with 
resentment  that  she  should  be  so 
cruelly  treated,  "just  for  a  matter  of 
a  year  or  two."  However  the  cir- 


52         "  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

cumstances  were  peculiar.  An  aunt, 
on  the  mother's  side,  had  come  to 
California  for  a  long  visit,  and  she 
wished  to  take  her  niece  to  Monterey 
with  her.  She  invited  Bessie,  of 
course,  but  Mrs.  Morris,  while  she 
felt  obliged,  however  unwillingly,  to 
let  Helen  go,  refused  even  to  hear  of 
Bessie's  accompanying  her. 

They  parted  with  heavy  hearts, 
Bessie,  after  a  day  or  two  of  moping, 
to  spend  a  merry  child's  summer  on 
the  old  farm,  Helen  to  change  all  at 
once  into  a  woman  in  the  hot-house 
atmosphere  of  the  gay  watering-place. 
From  a  simple,  calm  home  life  she 
stepped  at  once  into  a  new  world. 
Picnics,  swimming,  tennis,  riding, 
made  up  the  days ;  the  evenings  were 
spent  at  the  bowling  alley  or  in  wan- 
dering in  merry  groups  about  the 
enchanted  grounds  of  the  wonderful 
gardens. 

From  the  first  Helen  was  much 
admired ;  she  was  so  gay  and  debo- 
nair;  and  entered  so  joyfully  into 
everything  that  was  going  on. 
Among  the  many  who  admired  the 
beautiful  girl  there  was  one  who 


"GO     FORTH     AND     FIND."        53 

charmed  her.  He  was  a  young  Span- 
iard, Jose"  de  Santa  Yberri,  who  had 
come  up  from  his  rancho  near  Los 
Angeles,  and  was  spending  the  sum- 
mer between  San  Francisco  and  Mon- 
terey. 

From  the  beginning  of  their  ac- 
quaintance he  seemed  to  be  irresist- 
ibly attracted  to  Helen.  His  nature 
was  as  much  a  contrast  to  hers  as  his 
olive  skin  and  soft  languorous  eyes 
were  to  her  fair  delicate  beauty  and 
laughing  bright  eyes.  It  was  the 
witchery  of  contrast  that  drew  them 
together.  He  threw  himself  at  her 
feet  with  an  adoring  abandon  that  no 
girl  of  her  utter  inexperience  could 
have  resisted.  He  was  always  with 
her,  he  anticipated  every  wish,  the 
least  glance  of  her  eye  was  a  com- 
mand to  him.  Finally  when  her 
aunt  brought  her  home,  on  the  first 
of  September,  they  only  waited  Mr. 
Morris'  consent  to  announce  their 
engagement. 

Mr.  Morris  was  anything  but 
pleased  with  the  result  of  the  sum- 
mer's outing,  and  said  he  would  take 
time  to  consider  the  matter,  thereby 


54          "  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

causing  a  little  cloud  to  arise  between 
Helen  and  himself.  She  thought  and 
said  that  he  ought  to  be  able  to  read 
in  Jose's  face  his  real  nobility  and 
goodness;  that  it  was  an  insult  to  her 
to  doubt  Jose,  and  so  forth.  Mr. 
Morris  was  inflexible,  however,  and 
forbade  anything  like  an  engagement 
until  he  should  give  them  his  deci- 
sion. After  a  week  or  so  he  went 
south  for  a  few  days.  When  he 
came  home  he  was  tired,  worried,  and 
out  of  sorts.  He  called  his  wife  into 
the  library  and  they  talked  until  late 
into  the  night.  Helen  and  Bessie 
went  to  bed,  but  not  to  sleep.  They 
were  almost  equally  excited,  Bessie 
sharing  Helen's  enthusiastic  admira- 
tion of  the  handsome  Spaniard. 
When  Mrs.  Morris  went  up  to  her 
room,  Helen  slipped  out  of  bed  and 
went  out  into  the  hall  to  speak  to  her, 
but  when  she  saw  on  her  sad  face  the 
traces  of  recent  tears  only  said  good- 
night and  crept  back  to  bed,  whence 
in  a  moment  Bessie  heard  the  sound 
of  smothered  sobs.  In  an  instant  she 
had  left  her  own  bed  and  slipped  into 
Helen's.  She  put  her  arms  close 


"  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND.'  55 

around  her  and  mingling  their  tears 
they  soon  slept. 

The  next  morning  Mr.  Morris  sent 
for  Jose"  de  Santa  Yberri,  and  they 
talked  long  and  earnestly  while  the 
girls  wandered  about  like  restless 
ghosts.  After  a  while  the  library 
door  opened  and  the  two  men  went 
together  down  the  hall.  Mr.  Morris 
opened  the  door  for  his  guest  to  pass 
out  and  said : 

"I  will  talk  to  my  daughter  and 
you  can  come  for  your  answer  to- 
night at  eight,  but  I  tell  you  frankly 
I  do  not  like  it." 

So  much  the  girls  heard ;  then  he 
shut  the  door,  went  back  to  the  li- 
brary, and  sent  for  Helen.  When  the 
trembling  girl  reached  the  room  she 
saw  at  a  glance  that  her  father  was 
embarrassed  and  her  courage  rose. 

"Helen,  my  dear  child,"  he  be- 
gan, "you  know  that  you  are  the 
same  to  me  as  my  own  daughter, 
yet  I  feel  a  double  responsibility  now 
and  seem  to  be  speaking  to  you  for 
your  own  father  and  for  myself  as 
well.  I  must  tell  you,  dear,  that  I 
cannot  approve  of  this  man  whom 


56          "  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

you  have  met,  and  I  hope  that  you 
will  dismiss  him  from  your  mind  and 
let  me  send  him  away." 

"Why,  papa,"  said  Helen,  stand- 
ing with  her  wide  violet  eyes  looking 
straight  into  his,  "why  should  I  send 
him  away?" 

"Well,"  he  answered  with  hesita- 
tion, "he  is  not  the  sort  of  man 
that  an  American  likes  to  have  his 
daughter  marry;  his  past  life  has  not 
been  what  it  ought  to  have  been," 
and  he  weakly  added,  "I  think  that 
Americans  girls  are  apt  to  be  unhappy 
as  the  wives  of  foreigners." 

Helen  laughed  merrily  as  she 
said: 

"I  do  not  mind  what  life  Jose  has 
led,  he  will  live  a  beautiful  one  with 
me,  and  for  me,  and  I  am  very  glad 
that  he  is  not  an  American,  papa. 
No  Americans  have  such  lovely  ways 
as  he  has — except  you,  papa,  I 
mean,"  she  added,  and  coming  sud- 
denly up  and  throwing  herself  into 
Mr.  Morris'  arms,  she  burst  into  tears, 
saying,  "Oh,  papa,  I  love  him  so,  I 
cannot  live  without  him." 

Now    Mr.    Morris   could    not   be 


"GO    FORTH    AND    FIND."  57 

relied  upon  when  it  was  a  question 
of  a  womans'  tears,  so  he  said: 

" Don't  cry,  Nellie  darling,  please 
don't  cry.  If  you  are  certain  that 
you  love  him  so  much,  we  must  try 
to  make  the  best  of  it.  But  I  do 
not  like  it,"  he  added,  as  he  kissed 
her  and  let  her  go. 

When  Mr.  Morris  went  to  Los 
Angeles  to  inquire  about  the  life  and 
character  of  Mr.  Yberri,  he  found 
that  he  was  of  what  is  known  as  a 
good  Spanish  family,  well  enough  off 
regarding  money  and  property,  but 
that  his  life  had  been  one  of  unre- 
strained license  and,  moreover,  that 
there  was  living  at  his  house,  the 
home  to  which  he  proposed  soon  to 
take  his  young  wife,  a  Frenchwoman 
whom  many  people  called  Mme. 
Yberri,  and  who  had  certainly  been 
mistress  of  the  establishment  for  two 
years  or  more.  Mr.  Morris  taxed 
Jose"  with  this  and  he  frankly  ad- 
mitted it,  but  said  that  he  had  long 
been  tired  of  the  woman,  and  swore 
by  all  the  saints  in  the  calendar  that 
his  wife  should  never  even  hear  of 
her  existence. 


58  "  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

Helen's  money  was  so  tied  up  that 
she  could  have  only  the  income  from 
it  until  she  was  twenty-five,  and 
when  Mr.  Morris  told  this  to  Jose, 
he  seemed  so  frankly  pleased  about 
it  that  he  made  a  favorable  impres- 
sion; at  least  he  convinced  Mr. 
Morris  that  it  was  the  girl  he  loved 
and  that  her  money  had  not  been  a 
factor  in  the  matter. 

Undoubtedly  this  influenced  Mr. 
Morris  a  little ;  anyway  he  yielded 
his  consent,  although  reluctantly. 

He  had  decided  with  Mrs.  Morris 
that  Helen  should  not  be  told. 

"The  child  does  not  know  that 
such  things  exist;  it  would  sadden 
her  young  life  too  much,"  said  Mrs. 
Morris  through  her  tears. 

If  they  could  only  have  known  it, 
the  simple  truth,  plainly  told,  would 
have  released  them  from  this  painful 
position,  and  have  averted  the  over- 
whelming misfortune  which  was  com- 
ing; and  for  which,  when  it  came, 
they  were  sure  to  blame  fate  or 
Providence  instead  of  their  own 
weak  hearts. 

Helen  added  to  the  innocence  of  a 


"GO    FORTH    AND    FIND."          59 

dove  a  peculiar  straightforwardness 
of  character  which  would  have  made 
it  impossible  for  her  to  call  black 
white  to  herself  even  for  a  moment, 
or  to  have  loved  that  which  was  soiled 
in-  her  eyes. 

There  were  a  few  gay,  happy  weeks, 
and  then  Jose  went  home  to  prepare 
for  his  bride,  and  the  two  girls 
plunged  with  girlish  delight  into  the 
mysteries  of  the  trousseau.  Bessie 
was  to  be  first  bridesmaid,  the  wed- 
ding a  grand  affair  in  Grace  Church, 
with  a  reception  afterward.  Every 
detail,  from  the  flowers  which  were 
to  adorn  the  beautiful  church  and 
the  music  which  was  to  be  played  on 
the  organ,  to  the  color  of  the  brides- 
maids' slippers,  was  carefully  and 
thoughtfully  discussed,  Bessie  being 
to  the  last  degree  important  and 
excited  about  all. 

One  day  Helen  and  Bessie  were 
tying  up  the  bridesmaids'  favors, 
when  suddenly,  opening  wide  her 
fawn-like  eyes,  Bessie  exclaimed: 

"But,  Helen,  you  have  never 
really  been  in  society.  You  do  not 
know  any  other  men;  suppose  you 


60  "  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

do  not  really  love  Jose  best  of 
all?" 

Helen  laughed  a  merry  rippling 
laugh  and  kissed  her  engagement 
ring;  then  the  quick  tears  came  into 
her  eyes  and  she  said: 

"O  Bessie,  I  would  rather  be  un- 
happy with  him  than  happy  with  any- 
one else.  I  love  him  so." 

They  were  married  on  Helen's 
birthday  and  left  at  once  for  their 
southern  home.  At  first  the  letters 
came  often,  but  not  too  often.  They 
were  always  happy  and  full  of  inter- 
est in  her  new  home.  This  for  about 
eight  months;  then  they  became 
fewer  in  number,  shorter  and  more 
formal,  and  Mrs.  Morris  began  to 
look  troubled  when  she  found  one  of 
them  lying  at  her  place  at  the  break- 
fast table. 

At  this  time  Bessie  received  an 
invitation  from  some  of  her  father's 
friends  to  go  with  them  to  China,  and 
Japan,  and  with  a  thousand  anticipa- 
tions of  delight  sailed  on  the  first  of 
January,  to  be  gone  six  months  or 
more. 

Mrs.  Morris  knew  that  Helen  ex- 


"GO    FORTH    AND    FIND."          6l 

pected  to  become  a  mother  early  in 
March,  therefore  when  a  month,  and 
then  six  weeks,  passed  and  no  answers 
were  received  to  letters,  she  became 
really  alarmed,  and  her  trunk  was 
already  packed  to  go  to  Helen  when 
she  received  a  telegram  signed  "Dr. 
Harris,"  saying,  "Mme.  Yberri  is 
very  ill,  come  at  once." 

No  time  was  lost;  Mrs.  Morris 
reached  Los  Angeles  and  took  a  car- 
riage immediately  for  Los  Narranos, 
Helen's  home.  When  she  came  up 
to  the  broad  veranda,  no  one  was 
there  to  meet  her.  She  sent  the  man 
away,  went  up  the  steps  to  the  open 
door,  and  rang  the  bell.  Presently  a 
Chinese  servant  came  part  of  the  way 
down  the  hall  and  said: 

"Velly  sick,  no  see  anybody;  go 
way,"  and  disappeared. 

Mrs.  Morris  went  on  through  the 
house,  and  hearing  someone  moving 
in  a  room  at  the  end  of  the  hall, 
opened  the  door.  It  was  Helen's 
room.  She  lay  on  the  bed,  white 
and  still,  sleeping  or  unconscious. 
Moving  about  in  a  slow,  mechanical 
way  was  a  fat  old  woman  who  looked 


62  "  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

up  at  Mrs.  Morris  without  any  expres- 
sion of  interest  on  her  face.  Beckon- 
ing to  the  woman  to  come  out  of  the 
room,  she  briefly  informed  her  who 
she  was  and  questioned  her  about  the 
patient.  The  nurse  said  that  the 
baby  had  been  born  two  days  before ; 
that  it  had  only  lived  a  few  hours ; 
that  the  mother  had  had  convulsions 
until  that  morning  and  was  now  un- 
conscious, and  that  the  doctor  said 
there  was  not  much  chance  for  her. 
When  asked  about  Mr.  Yberri,  she 
said: 

"I  do  not  know  ;  I  have  not  seen 
him." 

With  a  heavy  heart  Mrs.  Morris 
took  her  place  by  the  bedside  of  the 
sufferer,  and  waited  and  watched. 
Days  and  weeks  passed  and  the  pa- 
tient slowly  and  surely  came  back  to 
life.  At  last  she  lay  on  the  veranda 
on  a  long  Japanese  chair,  her  face 
almost  as  white  as  her  pillows,  her 
hands  as  thin  and  delicate  as  the  jas- 
mine blossoms  which  they  held.  The 
mother  had  not  spoken  of  Jose.  She 
felt  that  there  were  sorrow  and  tragedy 


"  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND."  63 

enough  to  bear  it.  Now  she  sat  be- 
side her  holding  one  little  thin  hand 
in  hers  and  telling  amusing  stories 
of  Bessie's  adventures  in  China  and 
Japan.  Suddenly  Helen  said : 

''Will  you  bring  my  portfolio, 
mamma,  dear?  It  is  on  my  desk." 

When  it  was  laid  on  her  lap  she 
opened  it,  took  from  it  a  letter  which 
had  her  name  on  the  outside  without 
any  address,  and  which  evidently 
had  not  come  through  the  post  office. 
Silently  she  drew  the  letter  from  the 
envelope  and  handed  it  to  her  mother, 
who  as  silently  opened  and  read  it. 
It  was  dated  the  fifth  of  December 
and  said: 

"I  cannot  stand  this  humdrum  life 
any  longer  and  I  am  off.  You  had 
better  go  back  to  your  puritanical  old 
father  or  uncle,  whichever  he  is.  Of 
course,  if  you  wish,  you  can  stay;  but 
I  shall  not  come  back  while  you  are 
here." 

That  was  all.  Wrapped  in  the  ten- 
der, loving  arms  that  folded  her  close, 
she  slowly  told  her  pitiful  little  story. 


64         "  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND.' 


How  Jose  had  at  first  been  happy, 
then  bored,  then  strange,  staying 
away  from  home  for  days  at  a  time ; 
how  it  had  come  to  be  known  to  her 
that  he  had  yielded  to  the  fascina- 
tion of  his  old  mistress  and  that  he 
had  now  gone  with  her  to  his  old 
home  in  Peru.  She  uttered  no  word 
of  reproach,  but  once  she  asked : 
"Did  you  and  papa  know?" 
When  her  mother  bowed  her  head, 
she  turned  away  with  a  broken- 
hearted sigh.  In  May  they  brought 
her  home  again.  She  tried  to  assume 
a  cheerful  air,  to  seem  to  care  for 
the  old  home  life,  but  it  was  in 
vain. 

One  night  she  went  into  the  library 
where  Mr.  Morris  sat  before  the 
fire.  She  sat  down  on  the  floor  at 
his  feet  and  laid  her  head  on  his 
knees,  then  gave  him  an  open  letter. 
He  took  it,  but  the  tears  came  into 
his  eyes,  and  before  he  read  it  he 
smoothed  the  bright  golden  hair  and 
kissed  her  white  forehead.  The 
letter  was  from  her  Aunt  Charlotte, 
asking  her  to  go  to  Europe  with  her 
for  a  year. 


"GO     FORTH     AND     FIND."         65 

"Do  you  wish  to  go,  Nellie?"  he 
asked. 

She  looked  up  bravely  and  said, 
"No,  papa,  but  I  think  it  will  be 
easier  there,  and  if  I  am  going  to 
live,  I  will  try  to  make  something  of 
my  life  yet." 

He  praised  her  and  called  her  his 
brave  little  girl.  He  was  unfeignedly 
anxious  to  help  her  to  be  happy  in 
any  way  that  was  possible,  so  when 
she  nestled  up  to  him  and  said: 

"Papa,  dear,  I  shall  never  see  him 
again,  and  I  want  my  own  dear  name 
back.  I  can  have  it,  can't  I?" 

He  answered,  "Yes,  you  may  do 
just  as  you  wish." 

He  did  not  know  that  in  being 
weakly  kind  he  was  most  cruel. 

When  a  week  later  Helen  left  for 
New  York,  her  trunk  was  marked : 
"Helen  Morris,  San  Francisco," 
and  her  ticket  bore  the  same  name. 


VI. 

"  Who  is  Sylvia  ?    What  is  she 
That  all  her  swains  adore  her  ?  " 

| 

HE  long  slanting  rays  of 
the  afternoon  sun  streamed 
into  the  porch  as  Bessie 
unclasped  her  arms  from 
Helen's  neck,  and  holding 
her  hand,  turned  to  present  the  gentle- 
men. She  saw  in  their  faces,  in  that 
look  of  involuntary  worship  that  all 
men  give  to  a  really  beautiful  woman, 
how  very  fair  Helen  was,  and  while 
they  were  making  their  first  welcom- 
ing speeches,  she  turned  and  looked 
closely  at  her.  She  stood  there  with 
the  sunlight  tangled  in  her  red-gold 
hair,  tall  enough  to  look  slender, 
though  with  a  royal  figure ;  strong, 
young,  and  apparently  happy,  yet 
with  an  expression  about  the  warm, 
quiet  eyes  and  tender  but  firm  mouth 


GO    FORTH     AND     FIND."         67 


that  showed  something  held  in  re- 
serve, something  which  said  to  Bessie 
that  they  were  on  trial,  that  Helen 
had  come  back  to  see  if  the  old 
friends  and  home  were  really  as  she 
remembered  them.  The  impression 
was  painful  to  Bessie  and  for  a 
moment  chilled  her.  Then  Helen 
turned  from  Jack  and  Ned,  saying: 

"But  surely,  Bessie,  you  are  going 
to  show  me  another  member  of  your 
family.  I  supposed  him  to  be  alto- 
gether the  most  important  of  all." 

Her  smile  was  very  sweet,  and  in 
a  few  minutes,  seated  in  Bertie's 
nursery,  Bessie  was  showing,  with  a 
mother's  delight,  all  the  marvelous 
charms  and  perfections  of  that  young 
gentleman.  Helen  responded  with 
ready  sympathy  and  admiration,  and 
Bessie  soon  forgot  her  momentary 
feeling  of  disappointment.  They  sat 
there  for  a  long  time,  at  first  playing 
with  the  baby.  By  and  by  he  grew 
tired  and  laid  his  head  on  Helen's 
breast  and  went  to  sleep.  She 
rocked  him  gently,  twining  one  of  his 
bright  curls  over  her  finger,  and  be- 
gan to  speak  of  herself. 


68         "GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

"I  soon  grew  very  tired  of  simple 
sightseeing  with  Aunt  Charlotte,  and 
then  after  I  became  a  Catholic,  every- 
thing was  changed.  Of  course,  you 
do  not  know,  Bessie,  because  you 
were  so  young,  and  were  away  in 
Japan,  but  my  life  was  so  wrecked, 
absolutely  and  perfectly,  that  I  could 
not  endure  anything,  not  even  to 
amuse  myself,  nor  care  for  anything, 
nor  anyone.  That  was  the  reason 
that  I  wanted  to  go  away  from  home. 
I  was  afraid  papa  and  mamma  would 
see  that  I  did  not  love  them.  It  did 
no  good,  and  in  a  little  while  I  could 
not  bear  the  sound  of  Aunt  Char- 
lotte's voice.  When  she  tried  to 
make  plans  for  seeing  the  interesting 
things  wherever  we  happened  to  be, 
I  felt  like  putting  my  hands  over  my 
ears  so  that  I  should  not  hear  what 
she  said.  I  began  to  think  that  I 
was  going  insane,  when  we  went  to 
Milan.  One  evening  I  was  coming 
home  from  a  listless  stroll,  when  my 
good  angel  led  me  into  a  little 
chapel  where  I  saw  a  few  people 
going  to  Vespers.  There  I  first  saw 
my  dear  Father  Anselmo,  and,  what 


"  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND."        69 

was  better,  he  saw  me.  I  sat  there, 
bitter  and  wretched,  listening  care- 
lessly, when  I  heard  him  say:  'There 
is  no  sin  more  deadly  than  unre- 
strained imhappiness.  It  does  not 
matter  what  the  cause  may  be,  un- 
happiness  is  almost  always  selfish- 
ness. We  pray  that  His  kingdom  may 
come,  and  it  is  the  duty  of  each  one 
to  help  to  bring  the  answer  by  being 
himself  a  happy  unit  in  this  happy 
kingdom.'  Happy!  I  sat  quite 
still  after  the  others  went  out  and  in 
a  few  minutes  Father  Anselmo  came 
down  the  aisle  and  said:  'Can  I  help 
you,  my  child?'  I  will  not  dwell 
on  it,  dear,  but  he  was  to  me  the 
Good  Shepherd  who  led  me  safely 
to  the  fold,  the  wise  physician  who 
healed  my  sickness.  I  can  never  tell 
you  what  he  did  for  me  and  I  can 
never  repay  it,"  she  added  slowly. 

"When  my  mind  was  restored  to 
something  like  health  I  began  to 
think  what  I  could  do  with  my  life. 
I  thought  there  must  be  something  in 
me  which,  if  it  had  enough  work  put 
on  it,  would  be  good  for  something. 
Do  you  remember,  Bessie,  the  day 


ffUITIVBRSIT 


70         "GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

when  Signer  Bandini  said  to  me,  "If 
you  were  a  poor  girl  your  voice  would 
probably  give  pleasure  to  more  people 
than  will  ever  know  that  you  have 
lived?"  I  remembered  it  and  gradu- 
ally there  formed  in  my  mind  a  plan. 
Father  Anselmo  approved  it  and  I 
at  once  entered  the  Conservatory  in 
Milan.  I  worked  at  my  voice  and 
studied  music  besides,  historically 
and  scientifically.  I  put  my  whole 
life  into  it.  I  had  many  schemes  and 
plans  which,  of  course,  were  often 
changed  in  detail,  but  which  were 
essentially  the  same:  that  is,  to  devote 
myself,  all  I  have,  and  am,  to  bright- 
ening the  lives  of  some  of  the  very 
poor  by  means  of  music.  Sometimes 
I  have  thought  of  a  free  school  for 
poor  children  in  connection  with 
which  there  should  be  a  beautiful 
chapel  where  I  might  sing  with  the 
children  and  where  everything  should 
be  sacred  to  the  poorest;  then  I 
have  thought  of  other  things,  but" — 
and  her  smile  grew  as  serene  as  a 
summer  night — "that  is  the  way  in 
which  I  hope  to  help  His  kingdom 
to  come,  in  some  of  the  sad  places  in 


"GO     FORTH     AND     FIND.  71 

the  world.  Now  I  am  ready  to  be- 
gin my  work,  but  as  it  will  keep 
me  very  close  after  it  is  once  com- 
menced, I  have  come  home  for  a  lit- 
tle visit  first." 

She  leaned  over  and  kissed  the 
baby's  hand. 

A  tap  at  the  door  and  dinner  was 
announced.  They  dined  gayly;  Jack 
and  Necl  were  both  at  their  best; 
they  had  all  been  much  about  the 
world  and  seen  life  in  many  lands. 
There  was  no  pause  in  their  merry 
interesting  conversation  and  no  per- 
sonal topics  were  touched  upon. 

At  that  time  of  the  year  the  nights 
grow  suddenly  cold,  and  after  dinner 
they  gathered  in  the  sitting  room 
where  a  bright  wood  fire  was  burning 
in  the  lovely  wide  fireplace.  The 
evening  was  well  over  and  they  were 
laughing  merrily  at  an  amusing  ac- 
count which  Ned  had  given  of 
Tony's  attempt  to  catch  a  blue  octo- 
pus that  morning,  when  Jack  sud- 
denly remembered  that  he  had  heard 
Bessie  say  that  Helen  used  to  sing, 
With  the  ordinary  commonplace  tone 
in  which,  if  we  only  knew  it,  we 


72         "GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

all  speak   the  "Open,   Sesame,"   he 
said: 

'  'Won't  you  sing  something  for  us, 
if  you  are  not  too  tired?" 

Helen  looked  at  him,  smiled,  and 
said: 

"Yes,  certainly;  what  shall  I  sing?" 
and,  rising,  went  down  to  the  piano 
at  the  other  end  of  the  room.  The 
piano  stood  out  from  the  wall  and 
was  so  arranged  that  anyone  sitting 
at  it  faced  half  round  to  the  room. 
The  lights  were  bright  and  strong  as 
they  needed  to  be  for  the  evening 
studies. 

Ned  had  just  finished  arranging  a 
copy  of  Yseult  in  Tintagle,  for  the 
piano  and  violin,  and  had  that  very 
day  brought  it  in,  saying  to  Bessie 
that  they  would  try  it  in  the  evening. 

They  all  sat  looking  at  Helen,  all 
thinking  only  how  wonderfully  beau- 
tiful she  was,  Bessie  wondering  a 
little  if  Ned  would  like  her  singing. 
She  stood  by  the  piano  turning  over 
some  music. 

"What  is  this?"  she  asked,  and 
Bessie's  heart  stood  still  when  she 
saw  that  she  had  in  her  hand  the 


"  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND.  73 

Yseult  in  Tintagle.  "What  is  it?" 
she  asked  again,  "I  do  not  remember 
ever  to  have  heard  of  it."  Then, 
without  waiting  for  any  answer,  "Ah, 
yes,  it  is  a  wave  movement, ' '  and  seat- 
ing herself  she  began  to  run  over  the 
music  on  the  piano.  No  one  spoke 
or  moved.  Bessie  was  terrified. 
She  knew  the  horror  Ned  had  of  hav- 
ing anyone  see  his  music  in  its  pres- 
ent condition,  and  felt  with  a  shiver 
that  it  would  be  simple  torture  to  him 
to  hear  it  sung  by  an  amateur.  As 
yet  she  had  formed  no  idea  of  Helen's 
singing  except  as  she  remembered  it. 
One  glance  at  Ned  showed  his  face 
white  and  stern,  but  his  eyes  were 
bright  with  excitement.  Helen  read 
the  music  through,  running  over  a 
passage  here  and  there,  then  turning 
to  the  beginning,  while  they  all  sat 
almost  breathless,  with  firm  perfect 
touch  she  began  the  prelude.  The 
sighing  of  the  wind,  the  rhythmic 
wash  of  the  waves  on  the  shore 
uttered  by  the  piano,  under  her 
hands,  brought  the  stillness  into  the 
atmosphere  which  precedes  a  storm. 
Then  softly,  with  infinite  sadness  her 


74         *'  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 


low  sweet  contralto  joined  the  wind 
and  the  waves  chanting  a  pitiful  fare- 
well to  her  love.  By  and  by  when 
the  passion  changed  from  farewell  to 
longing  and  wild  desire,  her  voice 
rose  and  filled  the  room,  dominating 
the  wind  and  the  waves  which  now 
thundered  on  the  shore,  while  in 
agony  and  fierce  despair  she  de- 
manded that  God  should  give  back 
her  lover  to  her  arms : 

"  Let  not  my  soul  and  his  forever  dwell 
Sundered  :     though    doom     keep     always 

heaven  and  hell 
Irreconcilable,  infinitely  apart, 
Keep  not  in  twain  forever  heart  and  heart 
That  once,  albeit  not   by  thy  law,  were 

one  ; 

Let  this  be  not  thy  will,  that  this  be  done. 
Let  all  else,  all  thou  wilt  of  evil  be, 
But  no  doom,  none,  dividing  him  and  me." 

When  she  began  to  sing,  Ned 
slowly  rose  and  moved  like  one  en- 
chanted down  the  room.  He  stood 
behind  her,  and  when  the  storm  was 
rising  and  the  cry  of  the  wind  was 
like  the  wail  of  lost  souls  his  violin 
took  up  the  strain  and  joined  in  the 
prayer  with  its  indescribable  plead- 


GO     FORTH     AND     FIND.  75 


ing.  When  they  reached  the  end, 
Helen  rose  and  looked  at  Ned. 

"You?"  she  said.  "Is  it  you 
who  have  made  this  wonderful,  fear- 
ful, glorious  thing?" 

"No,"  he  said,  looking  with  eyes 
of  flame  into  hers,  "it  did  not  live 
until  to-night." 


VII. 

ESSIE  spent  a  rather  rest- 

0  EJily  less  night>  troubled  with  a 
\l  ir-^vlv  vague  misgiving,  and  at 
one  time  made  up  her 
mind  that  she  would  ask 
Jack  to  tell  Ned  about  Helen's 
marriage.  The  next  morning,  how- 
ever, when  she  came  into  the  break- 
fast room,  they  were  already  there 
and  were  talking  in  such  a  perfectly 
business-like  way,  each  seeming  so 
calm,  so  entirely  self-possessed,  that 
she  forgot  her  anxiety.  Indeed,  they 
were  nearly  quarreling  over  a  differ- 
ence of  opinion  about  the  orchestra- 
tion of  a  prelude  which  Ned  had 
brought  in  \o  show  to  Helen,  and  in 
which  he  had  made  the  wind  instru- 
ments too  prominent  to  suit  her. 

While  they  were  at  breakfast,  Jack 
said: 


"  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND."          77 

"I  have  a  proposal  to  make  to  you 
all.  But  first,  Bessie,  I  have  decided 
that  I  must  go  down  to  San  Gabriel 
again.  I  want  to  see  Father  Gui- 
seppe,  and  most  of  all  I  want  to  write 
the  next  few  chapters  of  my  book  in 
that  atmosphere.  So  what  do  you 
say  to  a  holiday?  Suppose  we  take 
a  week  for  vagabonding,  and  give 
ourselves  up  to  the  manifold  delights 
of  simply  being  alive  in  this  lovely 
autumn  weather." 

They  all  waited  to  see  what  Bessie 
would-  say,  and  in  truth  she  looked  a 
little  chagrined,  because  it  was  the 
first  that  she  had  heard  of  the  trip  to 
San  Gabriel. 

"Must  you  really  go  south  again, 
Jack,1'  she  said,  "and  before  we  go 
up  to  the  city?" 

"I  really  must  if  I  am  to  write  to 
my  own  satisfaction,"  he  answered. 

"Well,"  said  Bessie,  "we  will  con- 
sider it  settled  then,  and  now  what 
shall  we  do  for  the  beginning  of  our 
'gypsy  week?" 

"A  week  will  be  a  short  time  in 
which  to  show  Helen  the  special 
beauties  of  your  Eden,"  Jack  said, 


78  "GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

smiling  fondly  at  his  little  wife,  be- 
cause he  knew  that  she  hated  to  have 
him  go  and  appreciated  the  fact  that 
she  did  not  ask  him  not  to. 

Ned  said:  "I  will  go  down  and 
take  a  look  at  the  sea,  and  find  out 
whether  the  tide  will  serve  us  to-day. 
The  sea  is  like  a  mistress  whose 
whims  must  be  consulted ;  the  groves 
and  mountains  are  like  mothers, 
always  to  be  depended  upon,  so  we 
will  sail  when  we  may." 

He  soon  returned,  saying  that  the 
tide  would  not  be  right  for  a  sail, 
and  Jack  proposed  that  they  should 
begin  by  a  general  survey  of  the 
whole,  and  take  the  special  pleasures 
afterward.  Bessie  ordered  a  gypsy 
luncheon  in  the  cypress  grove; 
then,  giving  an  alpenstock  to  Helen, 
and  taking  one  herself,  they  went 
down  to  the  beach  through  the  maze 
of  sweet  smelling  flowers.  Helen 
stopped  at  the  lagoon  to  admire  the 
little  boat,  and  exclaimed  with  delight 
as  each  new  beautiful  scene  came  into 
view, until  they  reached  the  white  sand 
at  the  bottom  of  the  curving  rocks 
which  shelter  the  beach  on  the  north. 


"GO    FORTH    AND    FIND.  79 

Here  she  sat  down  and  leaning 
back  against  the  rocks  looked  out 
over  the  expanse  of  lovely  blue  water, 
over  to  the  still  blue  Monterey  hills, 
and  to  the  horizon  of  the  blue  heaven 
above  them.  She  gave  a  little  sigh 
of  content  and  said: 

"It  is  like  a  monochrome,  all  blue, 
but  so  different  and  so  alive.  When 
I  see  anything  like  this  I  feel  my 
kinship  with  the  earth  so  strongly. 
I  seem  to  myself  to  be  sister  to  the 
ocean  and  the  mountains  and  the 
sky." 

"That  is  all  very  well,"  said 
Bessie,  "and  after  last  night  I  think 
very  likely  you  are,  but  why  do  you 
sit  down?  Surely  you  are  not 
tired." 

"Tired,"  she  repeated;  "no,  only 
blissful.  But  where  else  can  we  go? 
The  sea  and  this  wall  seem  to  say 
thus  far  and  no  farther." 

"Not  at  all,"  said  Bessie, "we  are 
going  up  the  cliff.  What  do  you 
suppose  that  I  gave  you  the  alpen- 
stock for?" 

Helen  looked  doubtfully  at  her, 
but  Ned  led  the  way,  and  the  path 


8o  "  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

was  really  quite  safe  although  it 
looked  as  if  only  fit  for  goats.  Stop- 
ping every  now  and  again  to  breathe, 
and  to  look  at  the  ever  widening  view, 
they  presently  reached  the  top. 
They  picked  the  wild  flowers  that 
grew  along  their  path,  sang  snatches 
of  song  for  very  joy,  as  the  birds  do, 
and  went  along  the  edge  of  the  cliff 
for  a  mile  or  so.  Here  a  sudden  inlet 
of  the  sea  made  their  way  turn  at  right 
angles  to  its  former  course.  Follow- 
ing this  they  came,  after  a  time,  to 
another  path  which  descended  in  a 
zigzag  a  wooded  slope  covered  with  a 
thicket  of  madrone  trees,  scrub  oaks, 
and  buckeyes,  with,  candor  com- 
pels the  acknowledgment,  an  alloy  of 
an  occasional  poison  oak.  The  shade 
was  grateful  after  the  hot  sun,  and 
they  went  merrily  down  to  find  them- 
selves at  the  bottom  in  the  cypress 
grove  belonging  to  El  Ermita,  where 
Dan,  who  had  seen  them  coming  from 
a  distance,  awaited  them  with  lun- 
cheon ready  to  serve.  Their  table 
was  made  of  boards  placed  on  the 
horizontal  trunks  of  two  of  the  trees. 
The  steak  was  ready  to  be  taken  from 


"  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND."          8l 

the  coals  not  thirty  feet  from  where 
they  sat,  while  the  odor  from  the 
coffee  pot,  which  was  swinging  over 
the  fire,  would  have  served  to  tempt 
the  gods  on  Olympus. 

After  luncheon  Bessie  ran  lightly 
along  the  trunk  of  one  of  the  trees 
and,  seating  herself  in  a  forked 
branch,  leaned  her  head  back  against 
the  tree  in  luxuriant  rest.  Jack 
found  a  similar  place  near  by  for 
Helen.  She  looked  up  through  the 
little  openings  in  the  dark  green  foli- 
age into  the  depths  of  blue  in  the  sky. 

"How  sweet  and  kind  it  all  is," 
she  said;  "one  never  feels  any  doubt 
about  the  things  of  nature.  They 
all  give  us  back  our  love  in  overflow- 
ing measure." 

Presently  they  began  to  discuss  the 
wonderful  trees  and  the  how  and  why 
of  their  distorted  shapes. 

"They  were  probably  trampled 
into  their  present  forms  when  the 
grove  was  very  young  by  some  troop 
of  wild  animals,  who  only  stayed  for 
a  little  while,  then  left  them  to  grow 
old  without  the  power  of  straighten- 
ing themselves  up,"  said  Ned. 


82  "  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

"I  hardly  think  that,"  said  Jack; 
"if  you  look  at  that  tree  yonder,  you 
will  see  that  it  has  had  some  sudden 
force  brought  to  bear  on  it  that 
pressed  it  down,  and  then  later  an 
opposite  force  which  twisted  it 
around  in  the  other  direction.  It 
seems  to  me  that  it  was  probably 
done  by  an  enormous  tidal  wave, 
which  swept  suddenly  in  and  then 
retired  more  slowly. 

"You  are  both  wrong, ' '  said  Bessie. 
"The  trees  are  enchanted  Indians 
who  are  waiting  until  the  hour  of 
their  fate  shall  sound,  when  they  will 
resume  their  former  shape  and  steal 
noiselessly  out  and  take  back  their 
own  again.  I  am  sure  that  they  will 
not  hurt  me,  however,  because  I  am 
very  fond  of  them,"  she  added,  pat- 
ting softly  the  rugged  mossy  old 
trunk. 

Five  days  of  the  week  had  passed. 
They  had  sailed  over  to  Cypress 
Point  at  Monterey  and  down  to  Santa 
Cruz;  had  explored  the  caves  for 
miles  along  the  beach.  Helen  had 
hung  with  delight  over  the  still  pools 
where  the  green  and  purple  sea 


"GO    FORTH    AND    FIND."          83 

anemones  clung  to  the  rocks,  and 
more  than  once  the  white  foam  had 
rolled  over  her  feet  when  too  much 
absorbed  she  had  ventured  out  "to 
see  just  one  more."  The  two  girls 
were  burned  as  black  as  Indians,  their 
hands  and  clothes  were  torn  from 
climbing  through  the  scraggy  under- 
brush up  and  down  the  ravines,  but 
their  eyes  were  bright  and  their 
hearts  were  light  and  gay. 

They  were  coming  home  from  a 
sail  which,  having  begun  rather  late 
in  the  day,  had  lasted  into  the  begin- 
ning of  the  evening.  They  had  seen 
the  sun  set  from  quite  out  at  sea.  It 
went  slowly  down  into  a  bank  of 
thin  and  delicate  clouds  which  they 
scarcely  noticed  until  it  was  lighted 
by  his  vivifying  rays.  First  and 
most  prominently  there  seemed  to 
rise  out  of  the  sea  before  them  the 
walls  of  a  great  castle.  Flags  of 
burning  red  and  flaming  violet 
streamed  from  its  every  turret  and 
tower.  Away  to  the  south  appeared 
a  forest  of  tall,  finely  pointed  trees, 
whose  fruits  shone  like  the  translu- 
cent gems  on  those  of  Aladdin's  en- 


84        "  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

chanted  cave.  On  the  other  side  of 
the  castle  were  mountains  reaching 
high  and  yet  higher,  down  whose 
rugged  but  burnished  sides  poured  a 
river  of  molten  gold. 

All  above  this  beautiful  country 
the  sky  faded  from  bright  orange  into 
pale  green  and  up  into  the  divine 
celestial  blue.  The  sea  was  gold, 
warm  and  rich,  and  the  long  path 
of  liquid  light  across  it  to  the  west 
seemed  an  avenue  leading  up  to  a 
land  of  fair  delight. 

They  had  been  very  gay,  talking 
and  singing,  and  were  tired  with  the 
long  sail.  Now  they  sat  silent,  each 
absorbed  in  his  own  thoughts,  awed 
by  the  wonder  of  the  changing  scene. 
Each  moment  the  opal  sea  took 
some  new  color,  the  fair  sky-land 
some  new  shape.  In  a  moment  the 
sun  was  gone,  and  while  they  were 
still  feeling  the  pangs  that  a  dying 
day  always  gives  Bessie  leaned  for- 
ward and  reached  her  arms  out  to- 
ward the  west. 

"Good-by,  dear  sun,"  she  said, 
"good-by,  dear  happy  day!" 

Instantly    the    rosy    streamers    of 


"GO    FORTH    AND    FIND."  85 

the  afterglow  flushed  up  to  the  zenith 
as  if  to  answer  her.  It  was  so  sweet, 
so  full  of  hope  and  promise.  Bessie 
laughed  a  low  happy  laugh  and 
turned  around.  Ah !  how  changed 
the  scene!  The  round  pale  moon 
was  just  coming  over  the  mountains, 
the  sea  was  gray  and,  where  it  caught 
the  gleams  from  her  white  smile,  the 
waves  curled  up  with  a  mocking, 
treacherous  laugh  as  if  foretelling 
disaster  and  death.  A  cold  wind 
sprang  up  and  Bessie  shivered. 

"O  Jack,"  she  said,  "can  we  go  in 
faster?  I  am  in  a  hurry.  I  want  to 
be  at  home." 

She  fixed  her  eyes  anxiously  on 
the  little  wharf  which  came  into  view 
and  saw  Dan  waiting  there. 

"What  is  it?"  she  asked  as  they 
came  up,  while  she  pushed  by  the 
others  to  be  the  first  on  the  wharf. 

"It's  de  baby,  mum,"  Dan  said; 
"he  do  seem  to  be  pow'ful  bad,  but 
I  hopes  as  it  aint  nothin'." 

Her  flying  feet  were  far  up  the 
beach  before  the  words  were  out  of 
his  mouth.  Yes,  ifr  was  true.  Her- 
bert was  very  ill  and  it  was  soon  ap- 


86  "  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

parent  that  he  had  pneumonia. 
Ned  left  at  once  to  bring  a  doctor 
from  Santa  Cruz  and  the  others  did 
all  they  could. 

The  next  week  was  one  of  unmixed 
terror  and  pain.  Then  the  worst 
was  over,  the  doctor  pronounced  the 
disease  conquered,  and  said  that 
nothing  was  required  but  careful 
nursing.  Bessie  had  not  allowed 
anyone  to  take  the  child  from  her. 
She  had  had  quite  enough  of  leav- 
ing him  and  would  now  trust  no  one. 
Of  course  she  had  the  help  of  the 
nurse  and  sometimes  of  black  Julie, 
but  she  did  not  want  Helen  or  Ned, 
or  even  Jack,  around.  She  simply 
wanted  service,  someone  to  do  in- 
stantly and  exactly  as  she  was  told, 
so  she  preferred  a  servant. 

Two  weeks  passed  and  Jack  came 
in  one  day  and  sat  down  beside  her. 
The  baby  slept  quietly.  Jack  looked 
at  the  little  fellow  for  a  few  moments 
and  then  said: 

"Bessie,  darling,  I  hate  to  leave 
you  when  you  are  so  tired  and  worn 
out,  but  I  am  of  no  use  here  and  the 
boy  is  all  right  again,  so  if  you  are 


"GO    FORTH    AND    FIND."          87 

willing,  I  will  go  south  now.  If  the 
weather  holds  fine  I  will  come  back 
here  for  a  last  week,  but  if  the  rains 
come  you  had  better  go  up  as  soon 
as  it  will  do  to  move  Bert." 

"I  hate  to  have  you  go,  Jack," 
she  said,  "but  if  it  must  be,  the 
sooner  you  go,  the  sooner  you  will 
be  back." 

She  felt  a  kind  of  fear  and  desola- 
tion come  over  her  when  he  went 
away,  but  would  not  give  up  to  it, 
and  after  a  few  days,  the  baby  con- 
tinuing to  improve,  she  began  to 
think  about  other  things,  and  take 
an  interest  in  what  other  people 
were  doing. 

When  the  child  was  first  taken  sick, 
Helen  and  Ned  had  both  been  con- 
stant in  their  offers  of  aid,  but  had 
understood  when  she  said: 

"Do  not  come  to  ask,  I  will  send 
for  you  if  there  is  anything  that  you 
can  do." 

They  had  gradually  gone  about 
other  things  and,  perfectly  naturally, 
they  worked  together  on  the  Tristram 
and  Yseult.  Ned  brought  his  work 
into  the  house  and  together  they  went 


88          "GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

over  and  over  it,  now  Helen  singing, 
now  Ned,  and  sometimes  the  piano 
and  violin  with  both  their  voices 
making  such  music  as  had  been 
hitherto  unknown  in  the  hidden  little 
valley. 

As  often  happens,  the  last  week  of 
October  was  warm  and  delightful,  as 
if  summer  lingered  to  take  a  lov- 
ing farewell.  Bessie  often  left  the 
nursery  door  open  and  asked  them 
to  play  and  sing  for  her  all  that  they 
had  finished.  One  especially  warm 
day,  wrapping  Bertie  in  his  soft 
afghan,  she  carried  him  down  to  the 
end  of  the  porch  near  the  sitting  room 
door.  She  sat  in  an  easy  rocking 
chair  and  listened  to  the  music,  hold- 
ing the  baby  in  her  arms.  Ned  had 
just  finished  the  dying  scene  of  Tris- 
tram and  Yseult  and  this  it  was  they 
sang  for  her.  The  music  was  so 
sad,  so  tender  and  passionate,  the 
voices  were  so  thrilling,  each  so  beau- 
tiful, so  wonderful  when  blended, 
Bessie's  pride  and  joy  in  all  so 
great  that  when  it  was  finished  and 
they  came  out  on  to  the  porch  the 
tears  were  wet  on  her  cheek. 


GO     FORTH     AND     FIND. 


Helen  kissed  them  away.  "Poor 
darling  Bessie,  how  tired  you 
are." 

"How  thankful  and  happy  I  am," 
she  smiled. 

Ned  stooped  over  Bertie  and  tak- 
ing the  little  wasted  hand  raised  it 
softly  to  his  lips. 

"How  thankful  we  all  are,"  he 
said.  Then  taking  up  his  hat  he 
strolled  off  in  the  direction  of  the 
beach. 

Helen  went  down  to  the  arbor, 
only  a  few  feet  from  where  Bessie 
was  sitting,  and  lay  down  in  the  ham- 
mock which  swung  under  the  red 
passion  vines. 

The  bumble  bees  were  droning  ; 
great  lazy  butterflies  floated  slowly 
about  from  flower  to  flower,  and 
above  the  cliffs  great  flocks  of  wild 
geese  were  sailing  toward  the  south. 
All  the  soothing  influence  of  nature's 
ministers  were  around  them,  and  pres- 
ently, strongest  and  dearest  of  them, 
the  gray  plumed  Angel  of  Sleep 
folded  her  wings  about  the  sweet 
little  mother,  whose  arms  still  kept 
faithful  guard  over  the  sleeping 


9o 


GO     FORTH     AND     FIND. 


child,  and  the  beautiful  woman  who 
looked  as  she  lay  there  in  the  yellow 
sunlight  as  if  all  beautiful  things 
were  made  because  of  her  and  for 
her. 


VIII. 

ED  turned  away  from  the 
house  and,  pulling  his  hat 
over  his  eyes,  walked 
slowly  along  down  toward 
the  wharf.  The  sound 
and  feeling  of  the  last  music  they  had 
sung  was  still  with  him.  He  walked 
on,  going  over  and  over  the  last 
strains,  but  conscious  also  of  some- 
thing else  which  strove  within  him, 
something  which  he  had  known  quite 
well  for  days;  which  he  had  kept 
firmly  back,  determined  that  he  would 
not  let  it  have  way  and  equally  de- 
termined that  he  would  not  face  it. 
To-day,  however,  it  seemed  likely  to 
gain  the  mastery,  so  he  fled. 

He  went  out  on  to  the  wharf  past 
the  little  boathouse,  and  sat  down 
leaning  his  back  against  its  side. 
The  wide  sea  was  spread  before  him, 


92         "  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 


but  he  did  not  see  it  nor  any  outward 
thing.  His  thoughts  were  far  away, 
and  one  coming  suddenly  on  him 
would  scarcely  have  recognized  him 
his  face  was  so  distorted  with  rage 
and  bitterness. 

"Curse  it,"  he  muttered  with 
clenched  teeth,  "curse  it!" 

He  sat  there  sullenly  raging '  at 
fate,  at  his  life,  at  everything,  when 
suddenly  the  wind  lifted  a  little  flut- 
tering thing  and  laid  it  at  his  feet. 
It  was  a  piece  of  the  veil  which  Helen 
had  worn  the  last  time  that  they  had 
been  sailing.  He  stooped  and  picked 
it  up,  his  face  softening  instantly. 
Vision  after  vision  passed  before  him. 
Days  filled  with  her  presence  and 
nights  of  dear  memories  and  glad 
waiting  for  the  morning  which  should 
bring  him  to  her  again.  He  heard 
her  voice,  saw  her  eyes,  frank  and 
only  kind,  it  is  true,  but  so  sweet,  so 
dear,  and  dwelt  on  each  charm  of  her 
glorious  beauty  as  a  miser  gloats  over 
his  gold. 

"Well,"  he  exclaimed,  half  aloud, 
"every  dog  has  his  day,  and  I  suppose 
this  has  been  mine. "  Then  he  added 


"GO     FORTH     AND     FIND.  93 

bitterly:  "It  is  not  much  in  a  whole 
lifetime.  I  would  live  another  life 
to  have  it  over  again,"  he  went  on, 
changing  again,  and  seized  with  sud- 
den fear  at  the  thought  that  it  must 
soon  be  over,  that  in  a  few  days  they 
would  all  go  up  to  the  city  and  be 
scattered,  and  that  he  was  losing  some 
part,  perhaps  the  sweetest  of  this,  his 
one  day,  he  started  up  and  walked 
hurriedly  back. 

Coming  up  to  the  house  he  first 
saw  Bessie,  with  great  dark  rings 
under  her  eyes,  fast  asleep.  He 
walked  lightly,  not  to  waken  her, 
meaning  to  seek  for  Helen  in  the 
sitting  room.  Suddenly  his  feet  were 
stayed  as  by  a  lightning  stroke;  he 
stood  beside  the  hammock.  At  this 
moment  moved  by  some  invisible 
warning,  Bessie  opened  her  eyes,  a 
vague  feeling  of  impending  evil  op- 
pressing her.  The  baby?  No,  he 
was  sleeping  healthfully.  She  raised 
her  eyes  without  moving  her  head  and 
looked  toward  the  hammock.  Helen 
lay  there  fast  asleep  also.  One  arm 
was  raised  under  her  head  and  the 
sleeve  had  fallen  back  revealing  its 


94       "GO     FORTH     AND     FIND. 

perfect  beauty.  Her  long  bright 
hair  had  uncoiled  and  rolled  down,  a 
shining  mass,  to  the  grass  below  her, 
and  there,  beside  her,  in  the  shade  of 
the  vine,  stood  Ned,  his  eyes  fixed  on 
her  with  a  look  of  adoration,  a  look 
of  such  love  and  passion  and  pain 
that  Bessie's  soul  sickened  to  see  it. 
While  she  stared  in  speechless  misery, 
he  knelt  quietly  down  and  lifting  one 
of  the  soft  tresses  pressed  it  to  his 
lips.  Helen  moved  a  little  and  he 
raised  his  head,  his  eyes  devouring 
her  face.  Slowly  her  great  eyes 
opened,  opened  as  one  might  say  into 
his,  which  drew  and  compelled  them 
by  the  power  of  his  love,  and  opening 
so,  hers  smiled  with  tender,  trusting 
love  back  into  his  as  if  she  were  in 
some  happy  dream. 

Then  came  consciousness;  she 
awoke  and  sat  up.  She  looked  at  him 
and  comprehended  all.  Suddenly 
her  face  grew  hard  and  white.  He 
started  back  as  if  stung,  his  own  face 
now  ghastly  pale  and  with  a  look  of 
horror  growing  in  his  eyes  that  seemed 
only  to  reflect  the  horror  in  hers. 
He  sprang  up  with  something  be- 


"  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND."         95 

tween  a  cry  and  an  oath  and  rushed 
from  the  place.  Bessie  saw  his  face 
as  he  turned  away  and  the  look  on  it 
broke  her  heart.  She  sat  quite  still 
unable  to  move.  Helen  gathered 
her  hair  up  and  slowly  wound  it 
around  her  head,  then  covering  her 
face  with  her  hands,  moaned : 

"Oh,  God,  oh,  God!"  Lifting 
herself  up  her  eyes  encountered 
Bessie's.  Instantly  her  face  grew 
fierce,  flushed  red  with  anger,  then 
faded  to  gray.  She  rose  and,  mov- 
ing slowly,  like  a  woman  made  of 
stone,  went  up  to  where  Bessie  sat 
and  bending  over  her  said: 

"You  did  not  tell  him;  he  does  not 
know.  I  will  never  forgive  you!" 

The  voice  had  no  trace  of  Helen's, 
and  before  Bessie  could  speak  a  word 
she  turned  away,  went  slowly  down 
the  porch,  entered  her  room,  and 
shut  the  door. 

Bessie  sat  quite  still  for  a  moment, 
stunned  by  the  misery  of  it  all. 
Her  conscience  answered  to  Helen's 
implied  charge,  and  yet  she  felt  some- 
thing like  anger  rising.  Why  should 
Helen  hold  her  responsible?  Pres- 


g6          "GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

ently  she  got  up  and  going  into  the 
house  gave  Bertie  to  the  nurse,  then 
hesitating  for  a  moment,  went  to 
Helen's  door  and  knocked  softly. 
There  was  no  answer.  She  knocked 
again,  louder. 

"Helen,  will  you  let  me  come  in? 
Please,  dear  Helen,"  she  said  plead- 
ingly. There  was  a  rustling  sound 
as  though  someone  moved  slowly 
across  the  floor,  then  the  same  hoarse 
voice  said: 

"Go  away. 

Bessie  stood  waiting  a  moment. 
"O  Jack,"  she  moaned,  "what  shall 
I  do,  what  shall  I  do?" 

Then  she  remembered  Ned's  face 
as  he  turned  away,  and  with  sudden 
fright  rushed  to  her  room,  seized  her 
hat  and  ran  down  the  path  to  the  sea. 
Ned!  He  was  the  one  who  was 
wronged;  he  was  the  one  who  was 
suffering.  How  could  she,  who 
loved  him  so  truly,  who  had  been  so 
happy  thinking  that  she  had  been  a 
comfort  and  a  help  to  him,  have 
let  this  blow  fall  on  him?  "No," 
she  said  to  herself,  "I  have  not  let 
it  fall,  I  have  struck  it  myself;"  and 


"GO    FORTH    AND    FIND."          97 

so,  hurrying  more  and  more,  she 
heaped  reproaches  on  herself,  feeling 
that  she  had  known  it  all  the  time ; 
yes,  from  the  very  first,  when  the 
words  that  would  have  prevented  it 
were  on  her  lips  and  she  did  not 
speak  them,  but  aloud  she  only  said: 
"O  Jack,  O  Jack!" 

It  seemed  so  strange  to  her  that 
she  could  be  in  such  trouble  and  he 
not  near  to  help  her.  When  she 
reached  the  sand  beyond  the  lagoon 
she  paused  for  an  instant,  but  un- 
necessarily, because  she  knew  quite 
well  where  Ned  had  gone.  The  tide 
was  coming  in,  but  was  still  quite  low, 
and  there  on  the  sand  were  the  foot- 
prints of  a  man,  who  must  have  been 
almost  running,  leading  toward 
1'Asile.  She  went  swiftly  on  over 
the  slippery  stones  covered  with 
pulpy  sea  anemones,  careless  of  what 
she  crushed  in  her  headlong  haste, 
on  through  the  scudding  foam, 
around  the  first  point  and  across  the 
next  beach.  The  point  of  rocks 
was  already  covered  with  water,  and 
the  tide  was  running  in,  but  there  on 
the  sand  was  the  print  of  Ned's  foot 


98        "  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

as  if  he  had  just  gone  over.  Waiting 
until  the  wave  that  was  coming  in 
had  broken,  Bessie  rushed  into  the 
water.  She  expected  to  get  around 
before  the  next  one  came,  but  the 
water  was  deeper  than  she  knew,  and 
it  is  no  easy  thing  to  rush  through 
water,  so  just  before  she  reached  the 
end  of  the  rocks,  she  saw  the  great 
green  monster,  with  its  white  teeth 
just  showing  along  the  top,  curling 
up  to  spring  upon  her.  Quick  as 
thought  she  sprang  upon  the  nearest 
rock,  and  scrambling  along,  managed 
to  get  out  of  its  reach.  When  this 
wave  had  broken  so  that  she  could 
look  out  she  saw  that  it  was  the  first 
of  a  series  of  rollers  which  were  com- 
ing in,  as  if  the  sea  had  suddenly 
marshaled  its  hosts  against  her.  She 
climbed  still  higher  and  succeeded 
in  reaching  a  spot  where  only  the 
foam  and  spray  dashed  over  her,  and 
that  she  did  not  mind. 

When  the  water  grew  quiet  again 
she v  tried  to  venture  down,  but  the 
rocks  which  she  had  crossed  safely  a 
few  minutes  before,  when  they  were 
comparativley  dry,  were  now  simply 


"  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND.  99 

impassable.  She  crept  slowly  along 
on  her  hands  and  knees  to  the  farther 
edge  of  the  ledge  of  rocks  from 
which  she  hoped  to  see  the  opening 
into  the  cave.  It  took  some  time, 
and  when  at  last  she  leaned  over  and 
looked  down  there  was  another  bat- 
talion of  mad  roaring  waves  rushing 
up  to  the  mouth  of  the  cave.  Ly- 
ing at  full  length  and  clasping  a  pro- 
jecting stone  with  both  arms,  she 
drew  herself  to  the  very  edge  and 
shouted  with  all  her  strength,  "Ned, 
ONed!"  At  the  same  instant  the 
first  one  of  them  threw  itself  into  the 
cave,  then  burst  out  in  a  torrent  of 
foam  and  water  to  meet  the  next  on- 
coming wave. 

They  dashed  themselves  madly 
together  and,  turning,  formed  a  coun- 
ter wave  or  mountain.  It  rushed 
along  at  right  angles  to  their  former 
path,  reared  itself  up  and  broke  in 
fiendish  mockey  over  her.  It  was 
only  because  she  was  lying  so  flat  on 
the  rocks,  and  that  the  stone  which 
she  held  was  firm,  that  she  withstood 
the  shock.  She  lay  quite  still,  dig- 
ging her  feet  into  the  rocks  and  cling- 


100        "  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

ing  with  all  her  might  while  wave 
after  wave  broke  over  her. 

Again  the  monstrous  sea  grew  quiet 
and  seemed  to  be  taking  breath  for 
another  attack.  Bessie  was  so 
drenched,  so  beaten,  that  she  could 
hardly  lift  her  head ;  her  hair  was 
streaming  over  her  face  and  blowing 
in  her  eyes,  but,  struggling,  she  raised 
herself  and  once  more  shrieked: 
"Ned!  Ned!" 

The  wind  caught  her  voice  on  her 
very  lips  and  carried  it  off  to  the  piti- 
less sky,  and  again  she  saw  the  long 
black  swells  rising  and  advancing 
upon  her.  "Jack,  O  Jack!"  she 
sobbed,  and  crouched  before  them, 
fastening  her  arms  around  the  friendly 
rocks.  The  something  in  human 
nature  which  makes  the  clutch  of  a 
drowning  person  last  even  after  death, 
saved  her  then,  for  with  the  first  of 
these  waves  consciousness  left  her 
and  she  knew  no  more. 


IX. 

T  was  about  four  o'clock 
when  Bessie  left  the  house 
and  it  must  have  been  half 
an  hour  later  when  Helen 
came  out  of  her  room 
dressed  in  her  traveling  gown.  She 
went  directly  to  the  dining  room 
where  Dan  was  busy  preparing  for 
dinner. 

"Dan,"  she  asked,  "is  there  any- 
one about  the  place  who  can  drive 
me  to  Santa  Cruz  to-night?" 

Dan  was  the  most  discreet  of  ser- 
vants, but  he  knew  at  once  that  some- 
thing was  wrong. 

"Dere  aint  nobody  'cept  dat 
Tony,  Miss  Helen,"  he  answered, 
"and  I  'spect  he  dun  sail  mo'  boats 
den  druv  hosses." 

"Very  well,"  she  said  after  think- 
ing for  a  moment,  "just  have  the 


102        "GO    FORTH    AND    FIND. 

gray  horse  put  into  Mrs.  Winthrop's 
phaeton  and  I  will  drive  myself.  I 
will  send  it  back  to-morrow.  And 
Dan,  I  want  it  at  once,  you  under- 
stand?" 

Dan  obeyed.  He  hoped  that  Bessie 
would  come  before  the  horse  and 
phaeton  were  ready,  but  she  did  not. 
By  five  o'clock  Helen  had  started 
for  Santa  Cruz  by  herself.  Dan 
watched  her  drive  away  and  the 
silence  that  settled  down  over  the 
house  seemed  ominous  to  him,  broken 
as  it  was  only  by  Julie's  high  pa- 
thetic voice,  out  in  the  kitchen,  sing- 
ing: 

"  Keep  'itchin'  along,  keep  'itchin'  along, 
Jesus  '11  come  bimeby." 

Dinner  time  came  and  no  one  ap- 
peared. The  hours  at  El  Ermita 
were  by  no  means  very  regular,  arid 
as  both  Mr.  Harlow  and  Mrs.  Win- 
throp  were  absent,  Dan  supposed 
that  they  had  gone  for  an  unusually 
long  walk.  He  waited  for  an  hour. 
Every  few  minutes  old  Julie's  black 
face  appeared  at  the  door. 

"What  yo'   s'pose   I'se  gwine   do 


"  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND."      103 

wid  dis  yer  dinner?  White  folks 
don'  nebber  seem  to  hab  no  re'liza- 
shuns  'bout  cookin',"  she  said. 

"Go  'long,"  said  Dan,  "don't 
bodder  me." 

He  stood  watching  anxiously  at 
the  door.  It  was  quite  dark  and 
there  was  no  sound  of  anyone  com- 
ing. At  last  Julie's  despair  over  her 
spoiled  dinner  gave  way  to  genuine 
alarm.  For  the  twentieth  time  she 
came  in. 

"Go  'long,  you  Dan,"  she  said, 
"you  just  get  dat  Tony  an*  go  fin' 
Miss  Bessy.  What  fo'  you  stan'  dere 
starin'  out  de  do'?  You'se  just 
good  fo'  nuthin' !" 

She  threw  her  gingham  apron  over 
her  head  and  began  to  rock  herself 
back  and  forth,  wailing  aloud.  This 
roused  Dan  to  frenzy. 

"Yo'  shet  up,  can't  you?"  he  said. 
" Go  an'  fin'  de  lante'ns  and  shet  up. ' ' 

In  a  little  while  all  except  Bertie 
and  his  nurse  were  out  searching  in 
every  possible  place,  the  cypress 
grove,  the  rocks,  and  the  beach. 
Tony  took  the  lead  and  they  went  up 
and  down  the  familiar  places,  calling 


BTTV17X&STV 


104  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND. 

and  whistling  and  swinging  their  lan- 
terns. Then  Tony  got  into  his  row 
boat  and  went  out  around  the  point 
to  south,  and  then  to  north,  but  there 
was  no  sign.  Dan  and  Patrick,  the 
stable  boy,  had  climbed  over  the  cliff 
and  down  on  to  the  next  beach,  the 
tide  being  too  high  to  allow  them  to 
pass  round.  They  were  tired  and 
discouraged  and  were  about  to  turn 
back  when  Dan  stepped  on  some- 
thing which  gave  under  his  weight. 
He  stooped  down  to  look  at  it  by 
the  light  of  his  lantern  and  with  a 
loud  cry  held  up  Bessie's  hat,  the 
one  he  now  remembered  to  have  seen 
on  her  head  when  she  passed  in  the 
afternoon  going  toward  the  beach. 

The  cry  attracted  Tony's  attention. 
He  was  too  far  out  to  see  what  Dan 
had  found,  but  up  above  where  Dan 
stood,  on  the  rocks,  he  saw  some- 
thing white  fluttering  in  the  wind, 
and  he  knew  instantly  that  there  they 
would  find  what  they  sought.  He 
hurried  in.  The  water  was  too  deep 
and  far  too  fierce  for  Dan  to  cross, 
but  it  was  easy  for  Tony.  Taking 
advantage  of  a  moment's  quiet  he 


"  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND."        105 

dashed  through  the  water,  sprang 
upon  the  rocks,  and  in  a  moment 
was  standing  by  Bessie's  unconscious 
form.  He  stooped  over  and  touched 
her.  Yes,  she  was  probably  dead, 
he  knew  that,  but  fortunately  he  also 
knew  what  to  do  if  there  were  hope 
of  restoring  life.  Her  clenched 
hands  could  not  be  loosened  from 
the  rock,  but  he  moved  her  whole 
body  forward  and  lifted  them  over 
it,  then  taking  her  slight  form  up 
carried  her  slowly  and  carefully 
around  a  little  ledge  and  up  a  narrow 
path  that,  all  unknown  to  her,  had 
been  close  at  hand. 

When  they  reached  the  house  with 
their  apparently  lifeless  burden  Tony 
proved  to  be  a  host  in  himself,  and 
soon  Julie  and  Janet,  working  under 
his  direction,  saw  life  returning. 
Then  Tony  left  them  and  went  out 
again  to  search  for  Mr.  Harlow. 

Toward  morning  Bessie  opened  her 
eyes  ;  Julie  was  rubbing  her  feet,  and 
after  a  moment  she  asked: 

"Where  is  Mr.  Harlow?" 

"Tony  dun  go  an'  fin'  him,  Miss 
Bessie,"  Julie  answered  cheerfully. 


IO6        "  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

"Bring  me  my  clothes,  Julie," 
said  Bessie. 

"No,  'deed,  dat  I  neber  can,  Miss 
Bessie;  yo'  just  'scaped  de  jaws  ob 
deff,  now.  What  fo'  yo'  gwine  temp' 
him  ag'in?" 

But  Bessie  only  said  peremptorily: 
"Dress  me  at  once,  Julie  !  "  and  was 
obeyed. 

When  the  day  dawned,  which  was 
almost  as  soon  as  she  was  dressed, 
she  sent  for  Dan. 

"Lift  me  up  on  to  the  long  chair 
and  you  and  Patrick  carry  me  down 
to  the  beach,"  she  said.  When  they 
reached  the  beach,  she  only  pointed 
on  toward  1'Asile.  The  tide  was 
low  and  they  went  on  around  the 
point  up  to  the  cave.  Tony  was 
there  and  shook  his  head  as  they 
came  up. 

"No,"  he  said,  "he  is  not  there. 
I  have  been  to  the  farthest  end  of 
the  cave." 

Bessie  motioned  to  them  to  go  in, 
and  they  carried  her  on  to  where  the 
bank  of  dry  sand  had  been.  Alas ! 
it  was  dry  no  longer,  but  bore  the 
marks  of  the  angry  lashing  of  the  sea. 


"GO    FORTH    AND    FIND."        IOJ 

They  put  the  chair  down  and  Bessie, 
sitting  up,  pointed  to  the  spot  where 
she  had  thought  that  there  was  light, 
and  where  there  was  now  only 
heaped  up  wet  sand.  "Dig,"  she 
said,  and  leaning  over  watched  with 
staring  eyes  and  drawn  face  while  the 
faithful  creatures  dug  away  the  sand 
with  their  hands.  Then  she  slid 
from  the  chair  and  crept  over  to  see 
for  herself.  No,  there  was  nothing 
there,  nothing  but  a  little  cave  whose 
wall  was  so  white  that  it  looked  like 
light. 

Tony  now  insisted  that  they  should 
leave  the  cave  because  the  tide  was 
rising,  so  they  took  her  up  on  the 
chair  and  carried  her  back.  When 
they  reached  the  house,  Julie  brought 
some  coffee  which  Bessie  drank. 
Then  she  got  up  and  began  to  walk 
about,  apparently  forgetful  of  fatigue. 
She  sent  around  to  the  neighboring 
ranches  for  men,  and  organizing  them 
into  bands  bade  some  search  the 
beaches  and  caves,  some  the  groves 
and  cliffs.  She  did  not  once  think 
of  Helen  and  no  one  told  her  that 
she  was  gone.  She  walked  up  and 


I08      "GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

down,  between  the  porch  and  the 
lagoon,  waiting  in  feverish  anxiety 
for  the  different  men  to  come  in.  It 
did  not  occur  to  her  that  Ned  was 
dead,  she.  thought  of  him  as  in  deadly 
peril  and  was  in  haste  to  find  him. 
As  the  day  waned  and  one  after  an- 
other the  men  came  back  with  the 
same  report,  "no  sign,  no  sound," 
an  ever  tightening  band  seemed 
drawing  around  her  heart.  She  sent 
some  of  them  out  again  with  lanterns 
to  walk  through  the  night.  About 
midnight  she  fell  asleep  for  a  moment 
and  was  wakened  by  hearing  Ned's 
voice  calling  her  name.  She  got  up 
and  went  out  to  listen.  It  was  only 
the  wind  and  the  hateful,  hateful  sea, 
roaring  and  chuckling  in  fiendish  glee. 
Another  day  passed,  and  when 
night  shut  down  again  over  the  deso- 
late house  Bessie  gave  up.  Ned  was 
dead;  he  was  drowned,  and  through 
her  fault,  because  of  her  folly.  Now 
she  became  possessed  of  one  thought, 
to  get  to  Jack,  to  tell  him  all.  He 
would  go  to  the  city  on  his  way  from 
the  south;  she  would  see  him  sooner 
there,  she  must  hurry,  hurry. 


"  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND."        109 

Taking  Bertie  and  the  nurse,  leav- 
ing Dan  and  Julie  to  pack  and  fol- 
low, and  Tony  to  take  care  of  every- 
thing until  someone  should  tell  him 
what  to  do,  she  fled;  fled  from  the 
sea  which  she  wished  never  to  see 
again,  from  the  cruel  cliffs  and  all 
the  horrible  associations  of  the 
place. 

Bessie  never  remembered  the  jour- 
ney home.  They  arrived  at  Santa 
Cruz  in  time  to  catch  the  afternoon 
narrow  gauge  train.  At  Santa  Cruz 
she  telegraphed  to  her  mother  that 
she  was  coming,  and  to  all  outward 
seeming  did  as  everyone  else  did, 
but  everything  passed  before  her  as 
the  pageant  of  a  man's  funeral  would 
pass  before  his  dead  eyes. 

When  they  reached  the  house,  Mrs. 
Morris  was  there  to  welcome  them. 
She  was  shocked  by  Bessie's  altered 
appearance,  and  thinking  it  due  to 
the  baby's  illness,  exclaimed: 

"Why,  Bessie,  my  darling,  how 
worn  you  are.  Bertie's  sickness  has 
told  on  you  more  than  it  has  on 
him." 

She   was  busy  taking   the   baby's 


110      "GO     FORTH     AND     FIND. 


wraps  off,  talking  and  cooing  to  him 
with  a  grandmother's  pride,  and  did 
not  particularly  notice  the  dazed  look 
in  Bessie's  eyes.  The  fires  were  all 
lighted  and  dinner  was  ready,  but 
Bessie  sat  down  in  her  own  room  say- 
ing that  she  would  not  have  dinner, 
only  some  tea.  Mrs.  Morris  sat 
down  by  her  and  began  to  talk  about 
Helen. 

"We  are  so  disappointed  in  Helen. 
She  came  home  day  before  yesterday 
at  noon  and  left  on  the  overland  that 
night.  She  would  not  give  any  rea- 
son for  going,  only  said  that  it  was 
imperative.  For  my  part,  I  wish 
that  she  would  stop  this  kind  of  life 
and  behave  like  other  people.  Do 
you  know  what  is  the  matter  with 
her,  Bessie?" 

Bessie  did  not  understand.  She 
could  not  think,  and  shutting  her  hot 
eyes  wearily,  only  said,  "No."  Her 
mother  looked  at  her  for  a  moment 
and  said : 

"My  poor  child,  I  have  never  seen 
you  so  tired  and  used  up.  "  You  must 
go  right  to  bed,"  and  kissing  her 
fondly  she  left  the  room. 


„  "GO     FORTH     AND     FIND.         Ill 

When  her  mother  was  gone  Bessie 
sat  up;  the  steamer  would  be  in  some 
time  the  next  day.  She  began  to 
walk  slowly  up  and  down  the  room, 
then  stood  before  the  clock  and  tried 
to  calculate  how  long  it  would  be 
before  Jack  would  come,  but  always 
it  was  waveS)  not  hours,  she  counted. 
Then  she  sat  down,  still  looking  at 
the  clock,  saying  slowly  to  herself,  "I 
must  think  it  all  over  so  that  I  can 
tell  him  when  he  comes,  or  all  these 
waves  will  wash  it  out.  I  want  to 
tell  him  the  whole  thing  concisely." 

The  clock  took  it  up,  "Cncisely, 
cncisely,  cncisely." 

She  looked  at  it  wearily,  wondering 
who  had  taught  it  to  speak.  Just 
then  it  began  to  strike,  and  with  the 
first  stroke  of  the  bell  her  mind  took 
up  its  one  thought  again, — Ned, 
drowned  and  through  her  fault. 

She  got  up,  staggering  like  a  very' 
old  woman,  and  slowly  walked  up  and 
down  again.  So  the  night  passed 
and  the  morning  dawned  of  the  day 
when  Jack  would  come.  When  Janet 
came  to  ask  if  she  would  have  break- 
fast she  said,  "Yes,  here."  Janet 


112      "  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

brought  it  and,  placing  it  on  a  table, 
left  the  room ;  Bessie  did  not  notice 
it;  but  now  a  new  phase  of  feeling 
had  set  in,  that  strange  state  of  mind 
which  is  expressed  by  dual  conscious- 
ness. Bessie,  the  calm,  not  unhappy 
Bessie,  would  tell  Jack  when  he  came 
all  the  trouble  of  that  other  Bessie 
who  was  ill  and  wretched  and  broken- 
hearted about  Ned;  Ned  who  was 
drowned  by  the  huge  green  waves 
that  kept  curling  up  everywhere  and 
were  always  threatening  to  overwhelm 
this  unhappy  one.  This  Bessie, 
crouching  before  the  dead  fire,  did 
not  dare  to  sleep,  not  for  a  moment, 
because  if  she  relaxed  for  one  instant 
her  watchfulness  the  wave  just  there, 
over  the  mantel,  that  one,  so  dark, 
with  the  foam  blowing  back  from  its 
crest  like  a  mermaid's  hair,  would 
sweep  over  her — and  her  head  was  so 
tired.  But  when  Jack  came  he  would 
know  what  to  do. 

The  clock  struck  and  roused  her 
once  more;  surely  it  must  be  time 
for  him  to  come.  The  blood  mounted 
to  her  head.  What  if  he  should  not 
come  to-day?  She  started  up  in  ter- 


"GO     FORTH     AND     FIND."      113 

ror  at  the  thought.  There  was  a 
noise  in  the  hall,  the  door  opened. 
Was  it  Jack?  She  could  not  see,  a 
mist  swam  before  her.  Was  it  Jack? 
She  could  not  hear.  The  roaring 
of  the  ocean  filled  her  ears.  She 
stretched  out  her  trembling  arms,  and 
no!  It  was  not  Jack,  it  was  the 
wave  that  towered  above  her,  and 
crashing  down  wrapped  her  in  its 
cold  green  folds  and  bore  her  out — 
out — out — on  to  a  limitless  empty 
sea. 


X. 

[O  return  to  El  Ermita  and 
the  day  when  the  storm 
broke  which  left  it  deso- 
late. On  leaving  Helen, 
Ned  rushed  blindly  along, 
not  knowing  or  caring  where  he 
went,  only  desiring  to  get  away. 
He  did  not  intentionally  take  the 
path  to  1' Asile,  but  the  tide  being  low, 
his  feet  automatically  carried  him  to 
the  accustomed  spot.  He  went  in 
and  threw  himself  on  to  a  pile  of  dry 
sand  and  gave  himself  up  to  the  bit- 
terness of  his  own  thoughts.  He 
had  broken  faith  with  himself,  and 
the  memory,  of  the  look  in  Helen's 
eyes,  when  she  first  wakened,  was  by 
far  the  bitterest  drop  in  the  cup 
which  he  had  filled  for  himself. 
She  loved  him  then;  her  life  was 
brought  into  the  fatal  web  of  his  own! 


"GO    FORTH    AND    FIND."        115 

He  cursed  himself  and  fate.  How 
long  he  had  lain  there  he  did  not 
know,  but  suddenly,  without  warn- 
ing, a  cold  wave  lapped  over  him, 
wetting  him  to  the  skin.  He  roused 
himself  and  found  the  mouth  of  the 
cave  a  white  waste  of  water,  or  rather 
a  black  night,  except  when,  for  a 
moment,  the  backward  rush  of  water 
let  him  catch  a  gleam  of  moonlight 
on  the  white  foam.  Thinking  only 
that  they  had  been  mistaken  in  sup- 
posing that  the  water  did  not  reach 
that  spot,  he  moved  a  little  further 
back  and  sat  down  to  wait  for  the 
tide  to  fall.  The  next  series  of  waves, 
however,  came  higher,  and  for  the 
first  time  the  idea  came  to  him  that 
he  was  in  danger.  He  looked  around 
for  some  projection  overhead  on  to 
which  he  might  climb,  but  no,  it  was 
all  as  smooth  as  the  vault  of  heaven. 
For  one  moment  he  thought  bit- 
terly that  this  was  a  fit  ending  to  the 
farce  of  his  life,  and  prepared  to  meet 
his  fate.  At  that  moment,  as  though 
penetrating  his  soul  rather  than  his 
ears,  he  felt  Bessie  call  his  name. 
With  a  rush  it  all  came  back  to  him, 


Il6        "GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 


the  happy  summer,  the  dear  friends 
whom  he  well  knew  his  untimely 
death  would  plunge  into  great  sor- 
row. He  looked  around  once  more 
and,  remembering  the  light  which 
Bessie  always  insisted  she  saw  in  one 
part  of  the  cave,  although  neither  he 
nor  Jack  had  ever  been  able  to  find 
it,  he  began  to  feel  slowly  around 
the  walls  in  the  direction  which  she 
had  pointed  out.  It  was  perfectly 
dark  and  he  was  walking  in  water  a 
foot  deep,  but  after  many  attempts 
he  thought  that  he  felt  a  little  current 
of  air  strike  on  his  wet  cheek. 
Pausing,  he  turned  the  other  cheek. 
Yes,  there  could  be  no  doubt,  the 
air  was  entering  the  cave ;  the  open- 
ing was  very  small  but  one  side  of  it 
was  sand. 

He  dug  and  pushed  at  it,  hurrying 
as  much  as  possible,  and  in  a  little 
while  had  made  an  opening  into 
which  he  could  creep  and  then  plac- 
ing his  feet  on  the  rock  and  bearing 
back  with  all  his  might  he  forced 
the  sand,  which  was  dry  on  the  other 
side,  back  and  found  a  passage  large 
enough  for  him  to  crawl  into.  It 


GO    FORTH    AND    FIND. 


was  higher  than  the  floor  of  the  cave, 
and  although  entirely  dark  was  surely 
open  at  the  other  end,  because  the 
air  came  freely  down  the  shaft. 

He  had  no  sooner  gotten  into  his 
place  of  refuge  than,  with  a  thunder- 
ing crash,  the  water  again  filled  the 
cave  and  banked  the  sand  high 
against  the  opening.  This  opening 
was  afterward  found  to  be  about 
three  feet  from  the  spot  where  Dan 
and  Tony  had  dug. 

Now  he  began  to  work  his  way 
slowly  along  an  intolerable  distance  ; 
it  proved  to  be  in  reality  about  half 
a  mile,  and  having  to  creep  on  his 
hands  and  knees,  and  sometimes 
wind  through  places  so  narrow  that 
he  feared  momentarily  to  find  that 
he  could  go  no  farther,  it  seemed  to 
him  many  times  as  long. 

At  last  he  saw  daylight  gleam  be- 
yond ;  daylight  indeed,  but  softened 
and  subdued,  and  when  he  reached 
the  opening  and  looked  out,  he  found 
himself  at  the  bottom  of  one  of  those 
sinks  or  wells  which  abound  along 
the  coast. 

It  is  hard  to  say  how  these  wells 


Il8       "GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

are  formed.  They  seem  to  be  spots 
where  the  soil,  softer  and  less  firm 
than  that  which  surrounds  it,  has 
entered  into  league  with  the  sea  in 
its  insatiable  efforts  to  devour  the 
land.  After  a  time,  with  the  in- 
reaching  of  the  sea  from  without  and 
the  sapping  of  the  springs  and  rain 
from  within,  the  barriers  all  disap- 
pear, leaving  the  inlets  which  honey- 
comb the  coast. 

Ned  looked  at  the  sun  and  judged 
that  the  day  was  well  advanced,  but 
could  not  tell  the  hour  because  his 
watch  had  stopped  when  the  first 
wave  went  over  him.  He  drew  him- 
self out  and  began  to  look  for  a  place 
suitable  for  his  climb  to  the  top. 
The  walls  were  sandy  on  every  side 
but  one,  where  there  were  rocks  and 
some  cttbris  of  soil  that  had  come 
down  from  the  surface,  also  some 
scrub  oaks  and  underbrush  growing 
here  and  there.  It  seemed  that  here 
was  the  place  to  make  the  attempt, 
and,  although  he  was  exhausted  with 
the  long  creeping  and  all  the  exer- 
tions of  the  night,  he  began  at  once 
to  climb.  Catching  now  and  then  at 


"GO    FORTH    AND    FIND."        IIQ 

the  shrubs  and  drawing  himself  up 
by  his  hands  from  point  to  point,  he 
had  passed  more  than  half  of  the 
almost  perpendicular  wall  when  he 
found  himself  on  a  little  shelf  from 
which  there  seemed  to  be  no  way 
either  up  or  down.  He  stopped  and 
looked  carefully  around.  He  was 
beginning  to  feel  faint  from  his  long 
fast  and  fatigue  and  was  not  quite 
sure  of  himself;  still  there  was  but 
one  thing  to  do.  At  about  six  feet 
from  where  he  stood  was  a  scrub  oak 
hanging  down  the  cliff,  and  a  little 
above  it,  about  as  far  on  the  other 
side,  a  rock  which  seemed  to  offer  a 
firm  foothold,  and  from  that  place 
there  was  easy  climbing  to  the  top. 
Gathering  all  his  strength  he  made 
the  leap,  caught  the  shrub,  and  swung 
himself  forward  toward  the  next  rest- 
ing place.  The  soil  was  very  thin, 
the  roots  of  the  oak  lay  along  the 
surface  and  had  no  hold  on  the 
ground ;  it  gave  and  started  at  his 
first  touch  and  did  not  swing  true, 
so  he  missed  the  spot  he  was  trying 
to  reach.  His  weight  came  back 
heavily  on  to  the  oak,  which  loosened 


120      "  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND. 

and  slid  from  the  ground,  going  with 
him  over  and  over  to  the  bottom. 
He  was  stunned  by  the  fall,  and  when 
he  came  to  himself  one  leg  was 
twisted  under  him  and  he  soon  found 
that  it  was  broken  ;  he  was  absolutely 
helpless. 

Fortunately  he  had  fallen  on  to  a 
clump  of  wet  grass  where  a  tiny 
spring  oozed  from  the  ground,  and 
lying  there  in  pain  of  body  and  agony 
of  mind  he  was  able  to  moisten  his 
lips  with  the  water,  which  undoubt- 
edly kept  him  alive. 

The  night  came  on;  he  dozed, 
awaking  at  intervals  to  gaze  up  at 
the  pitiless  stars  that  alone  looked 
upon  his  misery,  then  slept  again. 
The  day  dawned  and  wore  slowly 
away,  night  came  again ;  the  slow 
hours  passed,  each  taking  in  its  flight 
a  little  strength,  each  bringing  the 
now  visible  end  a  little  nearer. 

The  morning  on  which  Mrs.  Win- 
throp  left  El  Ermita  Tony  stayed 
about  the  house  and  rendered  such 
assistance  as  he  could  until  she  was 
gone,  then  betook  himself  over  the 
hills  toward  Eagle's  Nest.  He  was 


"GO     FORTH     AND     FIND."      121 

not  looking  for  Mr.  Harlow,  he  had 
no  doubt  that  the  sea  had  swept  him 
away  and  that  he  was  drowned,  but 
that  very  idea  drove  him,  for  the 
time  being,  away  from  the  coast. 
He  climbed  listlessly  up  and  threw 
himself  down  under  one  of  the 
scraggy  trees.  He  was  very  much 
depressed.  Like  all  of  his  country- 
men, he  took  pleasure  so  gayly  that 
sorrow  and  trouble  came  upon  him 
with  corresponding  heaviness,  and  he 
was  much  attached  to  Mr.  Harlow. 

He  lay  there  for  a  long  time,  look- 
ing up  at  the  sky  in  a  gloomy  reverie, 
when,  suddenly,  black  wings  swept 
down  toward  him  and  roused  him 
from  his  thoughts.  He  sat  up  and 
watched,  indifferently  at  first,  three 
or  four  great,  ugly  vultures  circling 
slowly  round  and  round  the  same 
spot,  distant  only  about  a  quarter  of 
a  mile  from  where  he  lay.  Every 
now  and  again  they  would  swoop 
down,  then  suddenly  rise  and  begin 
again  circling  round  and  round. 

With  a  fierce  cry  Tony  bounded 
to  his  feet  and  tore  madly  down  to 
the  spot.  Reaching  the  top  of  the 


122        "GO    FORTH    AND    FIND. 

sink,  he  crept  to  the  edge  and  looked 
over  to  where  Ned  lay  still  and  white, 
apparently  dead. 

Tony  was  a  sailor  and  could  climb 
like  a  cat ;  with  sure  but  swift  agility 
he  let  himself  down  and  knelt  beside 
the  unconscious  man;  he  felt  his 
heart — yes,  the  faithful  thing  still 
beat  on,  though  feebly.  He  bathed 
the  pale  face  and  lips  with  water, 
then  poured  a  little  whisky  from  his 
own  flask  into  the  nerveless  mouth. 

The  question  now  was,  could  he 
leave  Mr.  Harlow  there  with  those 
cruel  monsters  overhead,  or  could  he 
carry  him  home  himself.  He  deter- 
mined to  try  the  latter,  and  first,  look- 
ing the  wall  over  carefully,  he  lay 
down  on  the  ground  beside  Mr.  Har- 
low; he  succeeded  at  length  in  getting 
the  limp  arms  around  his  neck  and 
slowly  rose  to  his  feet  with  Ned  on 
his  back.  Now,  carefully,  slowly,  he 
began  to  climb,  not  where  Ned  had 
made  his  ineffectual  effort,  but  near 
to  the  sandy  side  where,  if  he  now 
and  then  slipped  back  a  little,  there 
was  no  danger  of  his  falling. 

When  at  last  he  reached  the  top 


"  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND.         123 

the  sun  was  just  sinking  over  the  sea. 
Its  last  rays  lighted  Ned's  lifeless 
face  and  clammy  hair;  shone  on 
Bessie's  unseeing  eyes  as,  with  de- 
spair in  her  heart  and  fire  in  her 
brain,  she  sped  on  her  way  along  the 
marshes  of  the  San  Francisco  bay; 
and  gave  no  slightest  message  of  it 
all  to  Jack,  lazily  lounging  on  the 
deck  of  the  steamer  and  marking  its 
decline. 


XI. 

ACK  had  set  off  for  the 
south  with  a  light  heart; 
it  was  entirely  true,  as  he 
had  said,  that  he  wished  to 
see  Father  Guiseppe  again. 
The  priest  was  an  old  friend  of  his, 
and,  indeed,  he  was  indebted  to  him 
for  the  chief  facts  on  which  the  story 
which  he  was  now  writing  turned. 
He  had  been  "dwelling  in  Norway," 
as  he  called  it,  and  now  wished  to  go 
down  to  the  scene  of  the  second 
part  of  the  tale  to  refresh,  not  his 
memory,  but  his  impressions ;  to 
dwell  there  also. 

A  new  element  had,  however, 
entered  into  the  satisfaction  with 
which  he  set  off  from  El  Ermita. 
He  was  distinctly  bored.  Certainly 
he  was  in  his  own  house  with  his 
own  occupations  and  recreations ;  he 


"GO     FORTH     AND     FIND."      125 

was  fond  of  Ned  and  found  Helen  a 
charming  and  attractive  woman — but 
"Ye  gods,"  he  said  to  himself,  "can 
anything  be  more  dreadful?  Thank 
God,  Bessie's  music  is  only  a  pastime, 
not  an  absorbing  occupation,  morn- 
ing, noon,  and  night!"  It  was  with 
difficulty  that  he  had  been  able  to 
preserve  toward  his  guests  the  un- 
ruffled politeness  which  he  desired. 
He  sincerely  hoped  that  if  ever  Ned's 
opera  were  put  upon  the  stage  he 
would  be  miles  from  the  scene. 
Then,  too,  he  missed  Bessie's  con- 
stant companionship.  He  had  not 
realized  before  that  it  was  her  bright 
sunny  nature  which  had  made  El 
Ermita  so  joyous  to  him,  that  there 
was  no  music  without  her  voice,  no 
pleasure  or  comfort  without  her 
ready  sympathy.  Still,  although  he 
was  lonely  enough  without  her,  he 
would  not  think  of  disputing  the 
baby's  more  urgent  claim.  There- 
fore it  was  that,  thankful  that  the 
plan  had  been  already  made,  he  said 
his  adieu  and  went  gayly  down  to 
the  old  Mission  of  San  Gabriel. 
There  he  spent  ten  days  walking 


126      "GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

lazily  up  and  down  in  the  cloisters, 
lying  in  the  shade  of  the  old  pepper 
tree  that  grew  beside  Father  Giu- 
seppe's porch,  talking  a  little,  but 
chiefly  listening  to  the  old  man's 
recollections  of  fifty  years  before,  and 
absorbing  into  himself  the  influences 
which  he  sought. 

He  worked  too,  for  at  night  his 
story  grew  not  only  on  the  written 
paper  but  to  himself.  As  he  wrote 
of  the  warm-hearted,  passionate 
people  who  had  lived  and  loved  and 
died  here  years  ago,  he  seemed  to 
himself  to  have  lived  with  them,  to 
belong  to  them  and  to  their  world. 
It  was  a  world  in  which  Faith  was, 
instead  of  Knowledge ;  where  the 
hand  was  guided  by  the  quick  throb 
of  the  heart,  not  by  the  cold  reason- 
ing of  the  brain. 

When  the  time  came  which  he  had 
fixed  for  his  return  it  was  with  diffi- 
culty that  he  could  persuade  himself 
to  leave  San  Gabriel,  and  when  at 
length  he  found  himself  on  the 
steamer  bound  for  San  Francisco,  it 
was  with  feelings  akin  to  disgust  that 
he  recognized  some  of  his  own  friends 


"GO     FORTH     AND     FIND."       127 

who  were  returning  from  El  Coron- 
ado,  so  little  did  he  feel  that  he  be- 
longed to  this  rushing,  tired,  dis- 
satisfied people.  These  men  were 
members  of  his  own  club,  with  all  the 
virtues  of  their  time  and  kind.  On 
the  morning  of  the  day  when  they 
were  to  arrive  in  San  Francisco,  they 
were  all  gathered  out  on  the  deck, 
idly  smoking  and  chatting  intermit- 
tently. Presently  one  of  them,  a 
rather  brilliant  young  lawyer,  began, 
with  an  air  of  infinite  superiority 
and  transcendentalism,  to  explain  the 
wonderful  reasoning  which  had  fin- 
ally led  him  to  believe  in  nothing 
whatever,  to  have  neither  a  God  in 
heaven  nor  a  soul  within  himself,  and 
to  look  with  languid  pity  upon  the 
crowd  not  so  clear-sighted  as  him- 
self. His  companion,  a  young  man 
also,  and  editor  of  one  of  the  San 
Francisco  papers,  engaged  him  in  a 
sharp  contest  of  words,  not  in  regard 
to  the  conclusion  of  the  argument, 
but  as  to  the  manner  of  reaching  it. 
Jack  lay  stretched  out  on  the  deck 
smoking  a  cigar.  He  had  been  look- 
ing at  the  high  hills  of  Eagle's  Nest, 


128       "  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 


which  were  in  sight  from  the  steamer, 
and  thinking  of  the  home  with  its 
dear  ones  nestled  close  by  the  shore. 
It  seemed  to  him  that  everything  at 
El  Ermita  was  in  harmony  with  the 
true  life  of  the  country,  and  that  there 
alone  still  existed  the  natural  suc- 
cessors of  those  brave  cavaliers  and 
faithful  priests  whose  short  posses- 
sion of  the  land  has  nevertheless  left 
its  ineffaceable  spell  upon  it.  The 
talk  of  his  friends  grated  on  his 
nerves.  It  seemed  to  him  that  they 
were  masquerading,  so  foolish  and 
useless  seemed  all  their  words. 

He  thought  and  almost  said : 
"What  do  you  know  about  it? 
What  does  it  matter  anyway?  Go 
down  to  Father  Guiseppe.  Walk  in 
the  cloisters  at  sunset.  Go  in  to 
Vespers,  then  sit  under  the  pepper 
tree  and  watch  the  moon  come  up 
over  the  mountains.  What  can  you 
know  and  what  does  it  matter? ' '  He 
said  nothing,  however,  not  wishing 
to  rouse  himself  sufficiently  to  speak, 
but  lay  back  against  a  coil  of  ropes 
and  lived  over  the  days  when  the 
Spanish  cavalier  was  the  comrade  and 


"GO     FORTH     AND     FIND.'        129 

standard  bearer  of  the  Jesuit  priest, 
and  it  was  not  the  fashion  to  torture 
one's  self  with  transcendental  ques- 
tions. In  a  vague  sort  of  way  he  felt 
that  he  would  have  liked  to  have  been 
either  the  priest  or  his  companion. 

When  they  reached  the  city,  it  was 
too  late  to  catch  the  afternoon  train 
for  Santa  Cruz ;  he  therefore  decided 
to  go  out  and  spend  the  night  at  his 
own  house.  He  would  not  go  to  the 
club  or  anywhere  to  meet  friend  or 
foe.  He  was  out  of  sympathy  with 
all  this  hurrying  civilization. 

It  was  therefore  with  as  much  an- 
noyance as  interest  that  he  saw,  stand- 
ing at  his  own  door  as  he  went  up 
the  steps,  the  ubiquitous  telegraph 
boy.  He  took  the  telegram,  signed 
the  book,  and  let  the  boy  go,  then 
slowly  tore  the  envelope  open  and 
read  the  contents: 

"SANTA  CRUZ, 

October  31,  189-. 

"To  John  Winthrop,  San  Francisco. 
"Mr.  Harlow  found,  is  alive,  leg 
broken,  send  doctor. 

"ANTONIO  GELITTIO." 


130     ''GO     FORTH     AND     FIND. 

The  American  blood  leaped  in  his 
veins,  his  languor  disappeared  on  the 
instant,  and  his  nerves  were  like  steel, 
ready  for  any  emergency.  Janet 
opened  the  door  to  answer  the  ring 
of  the  boy. 

"Janet?  you  here?  Are  you  all  at 
home?  What  is  this  about  Mr.  Har- 
low?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  sir,"  Janet  answered,  "he  is 
drownded.  He  went  into  the  cave, 
and  Mrs.  Winthrop  was  washed  up  on 
to  the  rocks,  and  we  couldn't  find 
him,  and  Mrs.  Winthrop  and  me  and 
the  baby  came  home." 

"Where  is  Mrs.  Winthrop?"  said 
Jack,  taking  off  his  coat. 

"She  is  in  her  room,  sir,  and  she 
haven't  eaten  anything  since  we  came 
home,  and  just  walks  up  and  down." 

He  made  his  ways  three  steps  at  a 
time  up  the  stairs  and  opened  Bessie's 
door.  Never  was  such  a  look  of 
terror  upon  living  face  as  he  saw 
upon  hers.  When  he  spoke  to  her 
she  staggered  forward  and  fell  before 
he  could  reach  her.  He  lifted  her 
up  and,  seeing  that  she  was  uncon- 
scious, rang  the  bell  violently. 


"GO     FORTH     AND     FIND."      131 

Oh,  a  thousand  blessings  on  every 
thing  that  goes  to  make  up  the  life 
that  now  is:  the  telephone,  that  calls 
for  instant  aid  in  time  of  need,  and 
the  wonderful  power  that  science 
gives  to  the  wise  physician.  In  less 
than  half  an  hour  good  old  Dr.  Mark- 
ham,  who  had  been  Bessie's  doctor 
all  her  life,  was  standing  by  her  bed- 
side, and  Jack,  waiting  to  do  his  bid- 
ding, was  looking  into  his  strong, 
steady  face  to  read,  if  possible,  the 
verdict  there.  Life  or  death,  all  that 
he  had  or  was  or  hoped  for,  lay  in  the 
answer  to  the  unspoken  question.  By 
and  by  the  doctor  gave  some  slight 
directions  to  Janet,  and  beckoning  to 
Jack  left  the  room.  He  only  said: 

'  'I  am  going  for  a  nurse.  Happily 
there  is  one  in  the  city,  a  Mrs.  Gary, 
who  is  the  best  nurse  I  ever  knew. 
If  we  can  get  her  we  may  consider 
ourselves  very  fortunate.  I  will  be 
back  in  half  an  hour.  You  had 
better  sit  in  the  hall,  outside  the 
room,  in  case  Janet  needs  you." 

"But,  doctor "  Jack  began; 

but  the  doctor  did  not  wait.  He 
went  out  and  shut  the  door. 


132        "  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

Jack  went  softly  upstairs  and, 
placing  a  chair  at  Bessie's  door,  sat 
down  to  wait.  There  was  no  sound 
except  that  of  short,  heavy  breathing. 
Then  there  began  a  low  muttering; 
he  had  never  heard  any  human  lips 
utter  words  so  fast;  they  fell  over 
each  other  in  a  rush  that  made  them 
utterly  unintelligible.  He  bent  over, 
listening  intently,  his  ears  strained  to 
catch  one  word  that  could  be  under- 
stood. Suddenly  the  blood  froze  at 
his  heart  as  a  piercing  shriek  rang 
through  the  room:  "Ned,  Ned, 
Ned!"  He  rushed  into  the  chamber. 
Bessie  was  struggling  with  Janet,  who 
vainly  tried  to  keep  her  in  the  bed; 
he  tried  to  take  her  in  his  arms,  but 
she  pushed  him  away.  On  this  scene 
the  doctor  entered,  followed  by  a 
quiet  little  woman  with  strong,  calm 
eyes,  who  came  up  to  the  bed  and, 
laying  her  soft  cool  hand  on  Bessie's 
burning  head,  said  very  gently: 

"Lie  down,  dear  child." 

Looking  wildly  at  the  newcomer, 
Bessie  obeyed. 

Dr.  Markham  now  gave  his  direc- 
tions to  Mrs.  Gary,  saying: 


"GO    FORTH    AND    FIND.  133 

"Our  hope  is  in  you;  you  will  have 
full  charge  here  and  I  will  send  you 
an  assistant  from  the  hospital.  Mr. 
Winthrop  will  see  that  the  house  is 
kept  perfectly  quiet,"  he  added,  turn- 
ing to  Jack. 

Jack  followed  the  doctor  down- 
stairs and  drew  him  into  the  library. 
He  only  looked  the  question  which 
he  did  not  dare  to  speak.  The  doc- 
tor shook  his  head. 

"God  only  knows,  my  poor  boy," 
he  said;  "it  is  brain  fever  with  strong 
typhoid  symptoms,  but  we  must  do 
what  we  can.  I  am  very  thankful 
that  we  have  Mrs.  Gary;  it  gives  me 
hope/' 

"Ned,  Ned!"  rang  again  the  ter- 
rible cry. 

It  brought  to  Jack's  mind  the  tele- 
gram, which  he  had  forgotten.  He 
took  it  from  his  pocket  and  said: 

"We  must  do  something  about 
this.  I  do  not  understand  it;  I  have 
only  just  come  home,  but  there  has 
been  some  terrible  accident  and  I 
have  not  yet  found  out  what  it  was. 
What  shall  we  do?"  he  asked,  hand- 
ing the  telegram  to  the  doctor. 


134       "G°    FORTH    AND    FIND. 

"I  will  send  Grattan  down,"  the 
doctor  replied,  "he  is  a  young  man, 
but  he  will  do  everything  for  your 
friend  that  can  be  done." 

"Grattan,"  said  Jack;  "I  do  not 
know  him." 

"No,"  said  the  doctor,  "but  I  do. 
He  is  an  enthusiast  in  his  profession 
and  the  best  man  you  could  possibly 
have." 

The  next  morning's  train  took  Dr. 
Grattan  on  his  way  to  El  Ermita, 
while  the  evening  and  the  morning 
were  the  first  of  many  that  were  to 
pass  over  Bessie's  unconscious  head, 
and  Jack  had  learned  the  full  mean- 
ing of  this : 

"  Fear  at  my  heart,  as  at  a  cup, 
My  life-blood  seemed  to  sip." 


XII. 

R.  GRATTAN  found  Ned 
/ii^s:vi\    very  ill,    as   might  be  ex- 

\  $&Il}  Pected'  and  at  first  though* 
that  there  could  be  no 
hope  of  saving  the  broken 
leg.  Ned,  however,  was  determined 
to  save  it  or  go  with  it,  so  the  doctor 
prepared  to  try  every  expedient  and 
to  stay  by,  himself,  and  be  surgeon, 
physician,  and  nurse.  He  was  ably 
seconded  by  faithful  Tony,  but  his 
best  aid  came  from  Ned's  own  strong 
constitution  and  youth. 

After  about  ten  days,  as  all  was 
going  well  with  his  patient,  Dr.  Grat- 
tan  ran  up  to  the  city  for  a  few  days. 
He  found  Dr.  Markham  absorbed 
in  his  attendance  on  Bessie,  whose 
fever,  now  rising  to  the  highest  point, 
now  sinking  so  rapidly  as  almost  to 
baffle  all  remedies,  kept  him  con- 


136       "  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

stantly  on  the  alert.  Dr.  Markham 
wished  very  much  that  Grattan  could 
remain  with  him  to  see  the  other 
patients  and  relieve  him  in  other  ways, 
so,  after  careful  consultation,  they 
determined  to  bring  Ned  up  to  the 
doctor's  private  hospital  in  San 
Francisco.  Accordingly  Dr.  Grattan 
went  down  to  El  Ermita  again.  The 
leg  was  in  plaster  of  paris,  all  the 
symptoms  were  favorable,  and,  when 
the  doctor  suggested  that  he  should 
go  up  to  the  city,  Ned  was  so  un- 
feignedly  anxious  to  go  that  he 
brought  all  the  aid  of  his  own  will  to 
assist  the  undertaking. 

Tony  rigged  up  a  swinging  bed 
or  hammock  with  a  mattress  in  it, 
which  he  hung  low  in  the  boat  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  make  it  as  easy 
as  possible  for  the  patient,  and  also 
so  that  he  would  be  weir  protected 
from  wind  and  water.  It  took  two 
or  three  days  to  complete  the  prepa- 
rations, and  just  then  there  came, 
most  opportunely,  a  spell  of  such 
weather  as  makes  strangers,  who  hap- 
pen on  it,  think  that  there  is  no 
winter  in  California.  The  air  with 


"  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND."        137 

just  a  touch  of  cold  in  it  was  most 
delicious  to  Ned,  as,  lying  on  the 
same  bamboo  chair  on  which  Bessie 
had  gone  to  search  for  him,  he  was 
carried  carefully  down  to  the  boat 
by  Tony,  Patrick,  and  Dan.  They 
put  him  gently  down  into  the  swing- 
ing bed,  and,  everything  being  in 
readiness,  Dr.  Grattan  stepped  on 
board,  seated  himself  beside  his  pa- 
tient, and  bade  Tony  hoist  the  sail. 

A  thousand  thoughts  were  in  Ned's 
mind  as  he  felt  the  gentle  rising  of 
the  boat  and  heard  the  water  rushing 
past  its  sides.  Almost  six  months 
had  passed  since  he  had  come  in 
this  very  boat  to  this  happy  home. 
Happy?  Yes,  it  had  been  so,  and  he 
had  shared  in  its  happiness.  But 
now?  It  seemed  to  him  that  the 
blight  on  his  own  life  had  fallen 
over  it.  All  was  gone.  Bessie, 
poor  Bessie!  He  knew  from  Dr. 
Grattan  how  faint  was  the  hope  of 
her  recovery  or  for  her  reason  if  she 
lived.  And  it  was  for  him,  in  search- 
ing for  him,  that  it  had  all  come! 
He  thought  of  Jack,  of  what  would 
become  of  him  if  Bessie  should  die, 


138      "  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

and  he  turned  his  head  away  from 
the  doctor's  gaze  with  a  groan  and 
a  curse.  But  Helen,  he  went  on, 
where  was  she?  What  had  become 
of  her?  No  one  mentioned  her 
name.  Dr.  Grattan  had  evidently 
never  heard  of  her,  for  he  only 
answered  that  he  did  not  know,  in 
reply  to  Ned's  questions. 

The  blood  mounted  to  his  brain 
while  he  thought,  and  looking  up 
at  the  swelling  sail  he  whispered, 
1  'Harry,  hurry!"  One  thought  alone 
had  power  to  make  him  wish  to  live 
or  to  be  well;  it  was  of  Helen,  to 

find  her,  to  see  her,  to  ask  her 

He  did  not  finish  the  thought,  but 
went  over  and  over  again  with  this, 
that  he  must  see  her. 

The  day  after  he  arrived  at  the 
hospital,  Jack  went  out  to  see  him. 
When  Dr.  Grattan  had  told  him  that 
Jack  would  come,  he  determined,  at 
least,  to  find  out  where  Helen  was; 
but  he  was  so  shocked  by  Jack's  ap- 
pearance that  he  had  not  the  heart  to 
question  him.  For  the  first  time  he 
realized  what  Bessie's  illness  was. 
Jack  had  that  unmistakable  look  of 


"GO     FORTH     AND     FIND."      139 

disheveledness  which  comes  from 
hours  undivided  into  day  and  night, 
unmarked  by  work  and  rest,  hours 
simply  devoured  by  anxiety  and  pain. 
He  was  pale  and  pre-occupied,  and 
while  he  was  certainly  glad  that  Ned 
was  there  and  better,  it  made  no  im- 
pression on  him.  He  stayed  for  only 
a  few  moments;  it  was  not  possible 
for  him  to  remain  long  out  of  hearing 
of  Bessie's  room ;  and,  indeed,  the 
only  thing  that  gave  him  hope  or 
courage  was  to  be  where  he  could  see 
the  steady  light  in  Mrs.  Gary's  eyes, 
and  hear  the  cheery  sound  of  her 
voice. 

Time  passed  on,  and  at  last  Jack 
saw  in  the  watchful,  anxious  eyes  of 
the  doctor  that  the  crisis  had  come. 
The  fever  sank,  not  with  terrifying 
rapidity,  but  slowly,  quietly,  and  the 
patient  slept,  a  blessed,  restful  sleep. 

When  Bessie  opened  her  eyes  and 
looked  around  she  saw  that  she  was 
in  her  own  pretty  room.  She  had  no 
desire  for  anything,  no  thought  of 
anyone,  but  lay  looking  at  a  picture 
of  a  Bodenhausen  Madonna,  which 
hung  over  her  bed.  She  felt  pleased 


OF 


140        "GO    FORTH    AND    FIND. 

with  it,  but  no  smallest  remembrance 
of  her  own  baby  crossed  her  mind. 
Presently  a  ray  of  sunlight  came  into 
the  room  and,  falling  on  the  crystal 
pendants  of  the  chandelier,  made  a 
beautiful  prism  on  the  ceiling.  She 
was  happily  gazing  at  it  when  a 
quiet,  sweet  face  which  she  did  not 
know  looked  into  hers.  She  knew 
herself  to  be  at  home,  so  instinctively 
smiled  a  welcome  to  this  gentle 
stranger.  Mrs.  Gary  turned  her  head 
ever  so  little,  nodded,  and  said  in  a 
low  tone: 

"Be  very  careful." 

Then  Jack  bent  down  over  her; 
she  tried  to  lift  her  arms  to  put  them 
around  his  neck  but  they  seemed  too 
heavy,  so  she  just  looked  into  his 
eyes.  He  looked  so  sad  and  worn, 
he  looked  so  glad  arid  thankful,  all 
at  once,  that  in  an  instant,  with  a 
rush,  it  came  back,  her  eyes  dilated. 

"O  Jack!"  she  said. 

He  saw  the  coming  storm  and  tak- 
ing both  hands  said: 

"Don't,  my  love,  my  darling, 
please  do  not.  You  have  been  so  ill, 
so  very  ill.  Please  be  good.  It  is  all 


"  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND.  '        141 

right,  everything  is  all  right,  Ned, 
Helen,  all.  Please,  my  precious 
child,  do  not  tremble  so;  you  will 
make  yourself  ill  again." 

"Take  this,"  said  a  calm,  firm 
voice  which  Bessie  recognized  as  one 
which  she  had  heard  and  obeyed  for 
a  long  time.  She  drank  the  contents 
of  the  tiny  glass  which  was  held  to 
her  lips  and,  with  Jack  still  holding 
her  hands,  she  slept  again,  to  awaken 
by  and  by  to  full  consciousness. 

Little  by  little,  through  the  long 
tiresome  convalescence,  in  quiet, 
painless  hours  of  the  night,  and  in 
the  dear  talks  with  Jack,  short  at  first, 
but  growing  longer,  she  picked  up 
the  threads  of  life  which  had  so 
nearly  slipped  from  her  grasp  forever. 


XIII. 

HEN  Bessie  was  sufficiently 
convalescent,  Mrs.  Gary  one 
day  brought  to  her  bed  a 
pile  of  letters. 

"Look  them  over,"  she 
said,  "and  tell  me  which  ones  I  may 
read  to  you,  the  rest  must  wait  until 
you  are  stronger." 

The  first  one  which  Bessie  took  up 
was  from  Helen,  and  Mrs.  Gary,  see- 
ing the  eager  look  which  came  into 
her  eyes,  said: 

"Is  that  one  which  I  may  read 
to  you?  There  are  several  in  that 
handwriting." 

Bessie  hesitated  for  a  moment,  then 
said: 

"They  are  from  my  sister,  and;  if 
you  please,  dear  Mrs.  Gary,  I  will 
read  them  myself;  at  least,  I  will 
try." 


"GO    FORTH    AND    FIND.  143 

Mrs.  Gary  looked  over  the  let- 
ters, and,  taking  one,  opened  it  and 
handed  it  to  Bessie. 

"This  is  the  earliest  one;  you  may 
see  if  you  can  read  it,"  she  said. 

It  was  from  New  York  and  was 
only  a  line: 

"I  sail  to-morrow  and  I  cannot  put 
the  ocean  between  us  without  asking 
you  to  pardon  my  cruel  words  to  you. 
If  you  knew  how  wretched  I  am,  you 
would  forgive  me.  "H." 

Bessie  laid  it  down  and  sighed. 
She  had  not  thought  much  of  Helen's 
wretchedness,  but  had  supposed  that, 
no  matter  how  much  she  had  felt  the 
charm  of  Ned's  presence  and  of  all 
that  was  peculiarly  delightful  about 
him,  the  knowledge  that  she  was  a 
married  woman  would  have  kept  her 
heart  whole.  Now  she  began  to 
remember,  first,  the  night  when 
Helen  came;  her  singing  of  Yseult's 
song,  and  the  days  and  night  that 
followed;  scene  after  scene  passed 
before  her  and  she  cried  bitterly  to 
herself:  "Blind,  foolish  idiot  that 


144      "  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND. 

I  have  been!"  Still  she  knew,  or  felt 
that  she  knew,  that  Helen  had  not 
been  conscious  of  her  love  for  Ned 
until  she  awoke  from  the  sleep  in  the 
hammock. 

Bessie  took  up  the  next  letter  and 
read  it  with  wet  eyes.  It  was  one 
long  wail  of  despair.  Helen  had 
gone  directly  to  her  old  home  in 
Milan,  having  but  one  desire,  to  find 
Father  Anselmo.  When  she  arrived 
he  was  away;  a  strange  priest  was 
in  the  old  familiar  chapel  where  she 
had  been  wont  to  pour  out  her  heart's 
sorrows  and  prayers.  Now,  thrown 
back  again,  upon  herself,  she  turned 
to  Bessie.  She  wrote : 

"  I  cannot  think  nor  pray.  I  can- 
not work  nor  rest.  One  sound  is 
forever  in  my  ears,  one  face  forever 
before  my  eyes.  O  God!  can  it 
be  that  this  is  what  is  called  tempta- 
tion, and  that  I  have  dared  to  despise 
those  who  have  yielded  to  it?  I 
kneel  before  the  altar  and  press  the 
sacred  crucifix  to  my  lips,  and  while 
my  lips  repeat  the  prayer  for  for- 
giveness of  sin  my  wicked  heart  cries 


"GO     FORTH     AND     FIND."      145 

with  awful  exultation,  'He  loves  me, 
he  loves  me.'  Bessie,  my  more 
than  sister,  I  am  fallen,  fallen  so 
low  that  I  know  if  I  should  see  him 
I  would  rush  to  his  arms.  What 
shall  I  do?  Where  shall  I  go?  Pray 
for  me  and  pity  me. 

"HELEN." 

The  next  letter  was  only  a  note 
saying  that  she  had  received  a  letter 
from  Father  Anselmo  and  was  going 
up  into  Switzerland  to  see  him. 
Then  followed  a  month  of  silence 
and  the  fourth  letter  was  written  in 
a  calmer  mood.  The  wise  father 
was  leading  his  child  gently  and 
firmly  along  the  thorny  path  which 
her  own  hands  had  planted.  He 
had  heard  her  story  through  to  the 
end.  He  did  not  excuse  her  nor  bid 
her  be  thankful  that  her  sin  had 
existed  only  in  her  own  heart. 

"Bring  your  sin  and  sorrow  here," 
he  said.  "Lay  them  on  the  altar 
and  they  cannot  harm  you.  If,  in 
those  weeks  when  you  were  prepar- 
ing for  yourself  this  shame  and 
misery,  you  had  remembered  to  lay 


146      "  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

your  pleasure  here,  it  would  have 
turned  to  innocent  joy.  You  forgot 
it  then;  thank  God  for  the  pain 
which  has  brought  you  back.  I  will 
not  chide  you  now,  but  we  will  see 
what  is  to  be  done.  Your  work  is 
ready  for  you." 

She  wrote  that,  with  his  assistance, 
she  had  found  a  small  house  and 
had  begun  her  school.  She  had  ten 
pupils,  boys  and  girls,  selected  from 
among  the  very  poor,  those  who  were 
absolutely  unable  to  pay  anything. 
Almost  every  day  one  or  two  new 
ones  came  into  the  class.  She  was 
teaching  them  to  sing,  and  her  plan 
was  to  watch  attentively  for  any 
among  them  who  should  develop 
either  beautiful  voices,  or  especial 
talent,  in  any  way,  for  music.  These 
she  intended  to  take  into  her  own 
home  and  to  educate  them  thoroughly 
as  intelligent  musicians. 

Before  writing  the  next  letter 
Helen  had  received  one  from  Jack 
telling  her  of  Bessie's  illness,  and 
the  rest  were  short,  anxious  notes 
until  the  last  one,  received  that 
day,  which  had  been  written  on 


GO     FORTH     AND     FIND."      147 


receipt  of  a  cablegram  from  Jack 
saying  that  the  crisis  was  past.  It 
was  only  to  express  her  joy  and 
thankfulness  that  Bessie's  life  was 
spared,  and  did  not  mention  either 
her  school  or  herself. 


XIV. 

URING  the  days  of  Bes- 
/ji^avii    sie's  slow  recovery,   Jack 

\  ^*5/J]  went  every  day to  s^  witn 

Ned.  They  talked  in 
general  terms  of  the  disas- 
trous end  of  the  summer;  Jack  told 
Ned  that  Helen  had  gone  East  and 
to  Europe  as  soon  as  possible  after 
leaving  El  Ermita,  but,  although  he 
had  gathered  from  Bessie's  wander- 
ing talk  as  well  as  from  Ned's  eager 
inquiries  much  of  the  real  truth, 
neither  he  nor  Ned  spoke  of  it  in 
any  way.  One  day  while  Jack  was 
sitting  in  Ned's  room  Ned  asked: 

"How  soon  do  you  suppose  that  I 
can  see  Bessie?" 

"She  improves  very  slowly,  and  I 
do  not  know,"  Jack  answered;  "the 
doctor  fears  that  it  will  be  a  shock  to 
her  to  see  you." 


"  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND."      149 

At  that  moment  Dr.  Grattan 
entered  with  Dr.  Markham. 

"How  much  longer  is  this  cursed 
leg  going  to  keep  me  tied  up  here, 
doctor?"  asked  Ned. 

"That  is  always  the  way,"  said 
Dr.  Markham;  "here  is  a  young 
man  who  ought  to  be  thanking  God 
that  he  has  two  legs,  or  for  that  matter 
that  he  is  alive  at  all,  instead  of 
which  he  is  cursing  because  of  a  few 
weeks'  quiet." 

When  pressed  for  an  answer,  how- 
ever, Dr.  Grattan  said  that  the  time 
would  be  very  short,  and  promised  to 
send  him  some  crutches  the  next  day. 
After  the  doctors  were  gone,  Jack 
asked: 

"Why  are  you  so  impatient,  Ned?" 

"Because  I  am  going  away,"  he 
answered,  flushing  a  little;  "just  as 
soon  as  I  have  seen  Bessie." 

"Going  away?"  said  Jack,  looking 
at  him  curiously;  "where?" 

"To  Europe,  to  Milan,"  was  the 
answer,  while  Ned  looked  doggedly, 
almost  fiercely,  at  Jack. 

Jack  got  up  and  began  to  walk 
restlessly  about  the  room.  He  knew 


150    *"  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

very  well  what  Ned  meant,  and  equally 
well  that  it  would  be  useless  to  talk  to 
him  or  to  try  to  dissuade  him  from 
•  any  course  which  he  had  made  up  his 
mind  to  pursue.  Still  he  must  tell 
him.  He  wondered  how  it  had  hap- 
pened .  that  no  one  had  told  him  at 
first,  when  it  would  have  been  the 
simplest  thing  in  the  world  and  would 
have  prevented  all  this  trouble. 

Meanwhile  Ned  was  bracing  him- 
self up  in  his  own  decision;  he 
thought  that  Jack  was  going  to  speak 
of  his  own  past,  of  the  insurmounta- 
ble barrier  which  they  both  knew  was 
between  Helen  and  himself.  He  told 
himself  that  it  was  only  to  see  her 
that  he  was  going,  to  see  her  and  to 
explain;  that  he  was  in  honor  bound 
to  do  that;  in  short,  he  must  and 
would.  Besides,  he  was  his  own 
master  and  not  obliged  to  account 
to  Jack  in  any  way. 

They  remained  silent  for  some 
time,  each  busy  with  his  own  train 
of  thought.  Suddenly  Jack  paused 
in  his  walk,  and  drawing  a  chair  to 
the  side  of  Ned's  couch  laid  his 
hand  on  his  shoulder. 


"GO    FORTH    AND    FIND.  151 

"I  do  not  know  if  you  know  that 
Helen  is  married,"  he  said;  "her 
name  is  not  Helen  Morris;  it  is  Mrs. 
Jose  de  Santa  Yberri." 

Ned  struggled  fiercely  for  a  few 
moments  to  regain  his  composure,  and 
when  he  had  partially  succeeded 
Jack  told  him  briefly  the  story  of 
Helen's  short  married  life,  adding 
that  Mr.  Morris  had  repeatedly  tried 
to  have  her  get  a  divorce  from  her 
worthless  husband,  but  that,  being  a 
devout  Catholic,  she  had  steadfastly 
refused. 

Jack  left  him  then  to  try,  during 
the  long  watches  of  the  night,  to  ac- 
commodate himself  to  this  new  turn 
of  the  kaleidoscope.  For  the  first 
time  that  it  had  come  to  him  with 
any  significance,  he  now  recalled  the 
look  of  horror  which  had  grown  in 
Helen's  white  face  as  he  bent  over 
her  while  she  lay  in  the  hammock. 
It  was  this,  then.  She  had  fled  from 
him,  she  had  put  the  ocean  between 
them,  and  he  knew  her  proud,  imperi- 
ous nature  too  well  not  to  realize  that 
it  would  probably  be  vain  for  him  to 
cross  the  barrier  which  she  herself 


152        "GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

had  placed  between  them.  Mingling 
with  these  thoughts  came  the  mem- 
ory of  his  own  position,  and  with 
the  conviction  that  all  was  at  an 
end  forever,  he  gave  himself  up 
to  utter  despair.  When  Jack  came 
the  next  day  to  look  in  on  him,  he 
found  him  sunk  in  all  his  old  mis- 
anthropy. 

The  doctor  and  Mrs.  Gary  had 
both  given  Jack  so  much  encourage- 
ment about  Bessie  that  morning,  that 
he  felt  like  trying  to  share  his  happi- 
ness, if  possible,  and  so  he  set  himself 
to  cheer  Ned.  Unfortunately  there 
seemed  to  be  no  favorable  topic  to 
introduce  for  that  end.  If  he  sug- 
gested that  Ned  should  go  to  work  on 
his  opera  again,  Helen  was  inextric- 
ably associated  in  every  thought  of 
that.  If  he  asked  him  to  join  Bessie 
and  himself  in  a  trip  to  Florence  it 
would  bring  Helen  perilously  near. 
For  want  of  anything  else  to  say  he 
broke  out: 

"D it  all,  Ned,  the  whole  of 

this  trouble  has  come  from  not  facing 
things  as  they  really  are.  You  ought 
to  go  over  to  Scotland  and  see  that 


"  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND."      153 

little  girl,  and  settle  the  thing  once 
for  all,  one  way  or  the  other. ' ' 

The  idea  was  new  to  himself,  but 
he  felt  rather  pleased  with  it  and  with 
himself  for  thinking  of  it,  so  he  went 
on: 

"A  man  may  have  a  sort  of  a  right 
to  throw  away  his  own  life,  but  to 
go  masquerading  around  bringing 

trouble  and  misery "   He  stopped 

suddenly  and  went  to  Ned,  putting 
a  hand  on  his  shoulder  as  was  his 
habit.  "Don't  suppose  that  I  am 
blaming  you,  dear  boy,"  he  said, 
"any  more  than  myself,  because  I 
might  have  told  Bessie  and  we  might 
have  told  you  about  Helen,  but  I  do 
wish  that  you  would  think  seriously 
of  going  over  to  Scotland.  There 
might  some  good  come  of  it.  You 
might  arrange  something  and  you  are 
a  man  now — it  could  do  no  harm. 
Face  the  music,  it  is  the  only 
way." 

Ned's  face  had  changed  from  hor- 
ror and  disgust  to  anger  and  simple 
refusal,  but  when  Jack  said,  "Dear 
Ned,  you  must  forgive  me  if  I  have 
said  too  much;  you  know  that  it  has 


GO     FORTH     AND     FIND. 


nearly  cost  me  all  that  makes  life 
worth  having,"  Ned  caught  his 
hand  and  wrung  it. 

"I  know,"  he  answered,  and  there 
was  no  more  said  at  that  time. 


XV. 

NE  warm  morning  in  early 
spring  Mrs.  Gary  had  put 
Bessie's  lounging  chair  out 
on  the  balcony  which 
opened  from  her  window, 
and,  warmly  covered  with  a  soft 
Japanese  quilt,  she  lay  dream- 
ily looking  out  over  the  lovely  bay, 
the  ramparts  of  Alcatraz,  the  soft 
green  slopes  of  Angel  Island,  where, 
although  she  could  not  see  them,  she 
knew  that  the  golden  eschscholtzias 
were  beginning  to  weave  a  carpet  of 
such  splendor  as  the  Queen  of  Sheba's 
foot  had  never  pressed,  and  away  to 
the  hazy  distance,  where  the  hills  of 
Sonoma  County  melt  into  the  sky. 
She  was  thinking  over  the  summer 
with  its  beauty  and  joy,  lost  in  so 
much  misery,  and  was  asking  herself 
the  eternal  "  Why  ?  "  Jack  came  out 


156     "  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

on  to  the  balcony,  and  she  went  on 
thinking,  but  aloud,  taking  him  into 
her  thoughts. 

"  We  were  all  very  true,  good, 
kindly  people,"  she  said  ;  "  we  all 
wanted  to  be  happy  and  to  give 
happiness.  I  do  not  see  what  canker 
was  at  the  heart  of  it  all,  to  make 
everything  go  wrong.  Do  you, 
Jack?" 

"  Nothing  goes  wrong  or  right  by 
accident,"  said  Jack,  "and  I  think 
that  if  you  look  at  this  summer 
closely,  you  will  see  where  the  trouble 
lay,  easily  enough." 

"  What  was  it,  Jack  ?  " 

"  Well,"  he  said,  smiling  at  her,  "  as 
near  as  I  can  come  to  it,  your  true, 
good,  kindly  people  were  neither 
more  nor  less  than  a  lot  of  impostors, 
each  playing  a  part  in  a  comedy, 
which  has  been  at  bottom  a  tragedy 
too  ;  each  hiding  his  own  secret 
under  his  gay  mask,  and,"  he  sadly 
added,  "  each  paying  the  penalty." 

"  Jack,"  said  Bessie,  sitting  up  in- 
stantly and  looking  at  him  severely, 
"  what  were  you  hiding  from  me,  and 
what  penalty  have  you  paid  ?  " 


"  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND.         157 

He  looked  at  her  curiously  for  a 
moment,  then  leaned  forward  and 
took  the  little  thin  face  between  his 
hands  and  kissed  her  fondly.  "  To 
answer  your  second  question  first, 
darling,"  he  said,  "  I  have  paid  such 
hours  of  pain  and  agony  as  I  had  no 
idea  that  mortal  man  could  endure. 
I  have  sat  by  your  bed  hearing  the 
mutterings  of  your  fever,  seeing  you 
struggle  in  deadly  fear,  when,  if  I 
could  have  penetrated  for  one  mo- 
ment to  your  clouded  brain,  I  could 
have  eased  your  pain  and  rescued 
you  from  the  demon  who  held  you  in 
his  grasp,  and  who  was  dragging  you 
away  from  me  in  my  very  sight,  and 
I  was  unable  to  reach  you,  powerless 
to  help  you.  Worst  of  all,  sitting  so, 
I  have  known  all  the  time  that  I,  my 
own  self,  had  made  all  this  possible. 
My  love,  you  will  never  know  what 
your  illness  has  been  to  me.  Noth- 
ing is  the  same  nor  ever  can  be  again. 
The  sun  does  not  shine  so  brightly, 
nothing  seems  to  be  worth  while,  no, 
not  my  work  nor  anything.  I  have 
not  touched  a  pen  nor  opened  a  book 
since  I  came  home.  I  really  think," 


158        "GO    FORTH    AND    FIND.' 


he  added,  man-like,.  "  that  it  has 
been  worse  for  me  than  it  has  for 
you." 

"  Poor  Jack,"  said  Bessie,  patting 
his  hand,  "  you  are  worn  out  and 
must  have  a  change.  I  cannot  see 
how  you  had  anything  to  do  with 
making  me  ill,  or  what  you  could 
have  done  to  prevent  it." 

"  Yet,"  he  said,  "  that  is  the  truth. 
Through  all  your  raving,  now  crying 
that  the  waves  of  the  sea  were  break- 
ing over  you,  now  trying  in  a  thou- 
sand ways  to  tell  Ned  that  Helen 
was  married,  you  showed  that  the 
idea  which  was  killing  you  was  that 
you  thought  Ned  drowned  and  con- 
sidered yourself  responsible  for  his 
death.  Was  that  it  ?  " 

Bessie  nodded  and  Jack  went  on  : 

"  Well,  dearest,  if  I  had  told  you 
in  the  first  place,  long  ago  before  we 
were  married,  when  I  first  came 
back  from  seeing  Ned,  the  simple 
truth,  you  would  have  been  sure  that 
however  sorry  you  might  feel  for  it 
all,  you  were  in  no  way  responsible." 

Bessie  was  sitting  up,  looking  fix- 
edly at  Jack.  Now  she  lay  down, 


"GO    FORTH    AND    FIND.  159 

and  still  looking  at  him  said  :  "  Tell 
me  now." 

Jack  was  afraid  ;  she  looked  so 
much  as  if  a  little  wind  would  blow 
her  away.  He  took  her  hand,  and 
smoothing  it  softly,  said  : 

*'  Ned  is  married.  He  was  mar- 
ried then,  before  he  wrote  to  me,  at 
the  time  of  our  engagement." 

A  very  serious  look  came  into 
Bessie's  eyes  as  she  said  : 

"  Go  on  ;  tell  me  all  about  it." 

Jack  straightened  her  pillow,  and, 
wrapping  the  cover  closely  around 
her,  told  with  less  of  detail  than  the 
reader  must  have  it,  Ned's  story. 

When  Jack  left  Ned  to  go  on  his 
journey  through  India  and  Japan, 
Ned  had  nothing  in  particular  to  do, 
and  no  special  plans  except  to  spend 
his  days  as  pleasantly  as  he  could 
until  it  should  be  time  to  join  Jack  in 
Boston.  He  had  plenty  of  money, 
and  did  not  wish  to  do  anything  to 
make  more.  He  always  said  that  he 
had  no  genius  for  anything  in  par- 
ticular, unless  it  were  for  appreciating 
what  other  people  did.  It  was  a  favor- 
ite idea  of  his  that  there  is  more  need 


l6o        "GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

in  the  world  for  intelligent  appreci- 
ators  than  for  artists  or  for  any  other 
workers,  and  he  used  to  talk  laugh- 
ingly of  forming  a  cult  of  that  kind. 

He  went  about  studying  and  en- 
joying everything,  but  absolutely  un- 
trammeled  by  what  is  called  duty. 
He  stayed  for  some  time  in  England 
with  some  cousins  of  his,  and  after  a 
time,  as  they  were  starting  for  Scot- 
land, he  decided  to  go  with  them. 
They  all  wandered  about  very  pleas- 
antly, spending  a  week  here  and  an- 
other there,  Ned  looking  up  all  the 
old  people  for  miles  around  and  rind- 
ing out  all  sorts  of  interesting  legends 
and  histories  of  the  places,  with  which 
he  delighted  the  rest  of  the  party  in 
the  evenings.  In  one  of  these  ram- 
bles he  found  a  beautiful  little  hamlet 
lying  on  the  side  of  a  slope  which 
descended  to  a  loch  as  blue  as  the 
heavens  above  it.  On  the  other  side 
of  the  lake  the  highlands  rose  tier  on 
tier,  their  snowy  caps  mirrored  in  the 
placid  water  below. 

The  air  of  unworldly  peace  and 
simplicity  about  the  place  charmed 
Ned,  and  carrying  his  researches 


"GO    FORTH    AND    FIND/'        l6l 

further  he  found  that  the  whole 
community  was  composed  of  Scotch 
Presbyterians  ;  that  they  were  prob- 
ably the  descendants  of  some  little 
flock  which,  fleeing  from  persecution 
in  the  stormy  days  of  the  Restoration, 
had  settled  in  this  hidden  spot. 
There  was  no  hotel  nor  anything 
which  answered  to  that  purpose, 
it  not  being  thought  desirable  by 
their  minister,  who  was  the  authority 
on  every  subject,  that  strangers 
should  bide  with  them.  Ned  no 
sooner  found  this  difficulty  in  his 
way  than  he  determined  to  spend 
some  time  there.  He  went  to  the 
minister's  house,  a  large,  rambling, 
but  exceedingly  comfortable  old 
place,  and  representing  himself  as 
the  avant  courier  of  a  family  of 
English  ladies,  each  one  of  whom 
stood  in  particular  need  of  a  short 
sojourn  in  this  restful  valley,  he 
besought  the  Rev.  Mr.  Graham  to 
think  of  someone  who  could  take 
them  in.  Ned  knew  his  business 
and  had  not  studied  all  sorts  of 
people  without  finding  among  them 
other  specimens  of  the  kind  now  be- 


162        "  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

fore  him.  He  set  himself  to  charm 
the  old  man,  and  presently  introduc- 
ing the  subject  of  a  doctrinal  dispute 
which  was  at  that  time  making  wild 
havoc  in  the  peace  and  charity  of 
the  Presbyterian  Church,  he  ventured 
to  ask  Mr.  Graham's  opinion.  It 
was  a  chance  of  years.  A  new  list- 
ener to  a  man  full  of  words  and 
longing  to  pour  them  out !  When 
Mr.  Graham  was  fairly  launched 
upon  the  subject,  Ned,  with  an 
appearance  of  great  regret,  rose 
and  said  that  he  was  very  sorry,  but 
it  was  imperative  that  he  should  get 
back  to  his  family,  and,  as  it  was  a 
long  walk  to  the  place  where  they 
were  staying,  he  must  take  his  leave. 
It  was  too  much  ;  a  taste  had  only 
whetted  the  appetite  ;  a  vision  of 
other  intelligent  faces  raised  in 
reverent  attention  to  his  own  arose 
before  the  old  man  and  he  hesitated 
no  longer.  He  said  that  since  it 
was  so  much  for  the  good  of  the 
English  ladies,  he  would  receive 
them  for  one  week  at  the  Manse, 
that  is,  he  quickly  added,  if  he  could 
afford  to  do  SO:  Ned  understood 


"  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND."        163 

the  thrift  of  the  nation  and  his  offers 
of  remuneration  relieved  Mr.  Graham 
of  his  last  scruple. 

It  took  all  of  Ned's  powers  of 
description  and  cajolery  to  induce 
his  cousins  to  go  up  to  this  new- 
found Eden,  but  he  succeeded  with 
all  of  the  party  except  the  father  of 
the  family.  He  sternly  refused  to 
stay  under  the  roof  with  the  "old 
Roundhead."  When  they  were  set- 
tled at  the  Manse  and  had  admired 
the  scene  from  the  windows,  and 
had  walked  down  to  the  little  lake, 
the 'young  English  girls  demanded 
a  wider  reach  for  their  excursions, 
and  so  it  happened  that  Alice  Graham, 
a  quiet,  retiring,  plain  little  girl  about 
seventeen  years  old,  the  daughter  of 
the  minister,  was  invited  by  them  to 
show  them  the  country  round  about. 
She  became,  in  fact,  their  constant 
companion,  and  as  their  tramps  often 
lasted  all  day,  the  girls  became  very 
well  acquainted  with  her  during  the 
week  of  their  stay. 

At  this  time  Ned  fancied  that  he 
was  very  much  in  love  with  Jack's 
cousin,  Mildred  Boynton,  in  Boston, 


164     "GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

and  he  did  not  notice  this  little  Alice 
at  all.  Anyway  she  made  no  im- 
pression on  him  except,  as  he  told 
Jack  afterward,  as  a  little,  insignifi- 
cant, colorless  atom.  The  day  on 
which  his  cousins  and  he  were  going 
south  to  rejoin  the  father  the  whole 
party  went  across  the  lake  early  in 
the  morning,  intending  to  climb  the 
high  hills  on  the  other  side  and  get  a 
view  of  the  next  valley,  where  there 
was  another  and  larger  lake. 

Ned  was  climbing,  giving  a  hand 
now  to  one,  now  to  another,  when 
suddenly  his  cousin  Edith  saw  a 
little  cluster  of  harebells  hanging 
high  above  her  head.  She  tried  to 
reach  them,  and  failing,  looked  at 
Ned,  who  promptly  sprang  up  the 
rocks  and  got  them  for  her.  The 
ascent  was  very  simple  but  the  de- 
scent more  difficult,  and  he  was  in  a 
hurry,  knowing  that  their  time  was 
limited.  He  came  rushing  down, 
slipped,  and  sliding  some  distance 
brought  up  in  a  clump  of  broom,  to 
find  that  his  ankle  was  twisted  and 
he  was  not  able  to  walk.  The  party 
turned  back  and  sent  assistance  to 


"  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND."      165 

him,  but  when  at  length  he  reached 
the  house  he  was  obliged  to  confess 
that  he  could  not  go  on  that  day.  The 
traveling  carnage  was  at  the  door, 
and  it  was  in  no  happy  frame  of  mind 
that  he  bade  his  cousins  good-by, 
promising  to  join  them  in  two  or 
three  days  at  the  furthest.  However, 
another  week  had  nearly  gone  by 
when  he  found  himself  able  to  walk 
with  a  home-made  crutch  under  one 
arm.  He  had  listened  with  what 
show  of  patience  he  could  assume  to 
the  long  diatribes  of  Mr.  Graham, 
and  his  ears  and  nerves  were  tired  ; 
so  when  he  saw  Alice  sitting  with 
one  of  her  little  brothers  out  under 
the  shade  of  the  trees,  he  was  glad 
to  join  her.  Naturally  they  spoke 
of  his  accident  and,  looking  up  to 
the  heights  across  the  lake,  he 
said  : 

"  I  am  very  unwilling  to  go  away 
without  seeing  the  loch  which  lies 
over  yonder." 

Alice  smiled  shyly  and  told  him 
that  if  he  really  wanted  to  see  it  he 
could  go  by  the  road,  which  wound 
around  the  hills,  and  which  would 


l66      "  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

take  him  to  the  loch  itself,  but  she 
added  : 

"  The  view  is  very  fine  from  yon- 
der on  the  hilltop." 

Anything  was  better  than  another 
afternoon  in  the  Manse  with  Mr. 
Graham,  so  Ned  asked  her  if  he 
could  get  a  trap  anywhere  in  which 
he  could  drive  around  to  the  lake. 
Alice  replied  that  she  was  quite  sure 
that  he  could  have  her  father's  chaise. 
He  looked  at  his  crutch  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  she  asked  if  she  might  go 
and  see  about  it  for  him.  He  an- 
swered that  he  would  be  very  grate- 
ful if  she  would  be  so  good,  and  after 
a  moment's  hesitation  he  added  : 

"  Don't  you  think  that  you  could 
come  with  me  ?  To  show  me  the 
way,  you  know." 

She  answered  with  the  perfect  sim- 
plicity of  a  child  who  was  in  her  own 
corner  of  the  world,  speaking  to  a 
stranger  within  her  gates. 

"  Yes,  I  will  go  with  you  if  you 
wish  it." 

After  she  had  gone  to  order  the 
pony,  Ned  was  sorry  that  he  had 
asked  her  to  go  ;  at  least,  he  always 


"GO     FORTH     AND     FIND."      167 

thought  that  he  had  been,  but 
whether  he  really  had  a  premonition 
of  coming  disaster  or  whether  the 
event  shed  its  darkening  influences 
over  the  memory  of  the  day  is  difficult 
to  know. 

They  started  out  and  drove  along 
a  curving  road  which  ascended 
slightly  as  it  wound  around,  in  and 
out  through  the  lovely  hills.  At  first 
Ned  tried  to  amuse  Alice  by  chatting 
with  her  in  the  desultory  way  in  which 
he  was  accustomed  to  talk  to  other 
girls,  but  she  responded  only  by 
monosyllables,  and  after  a  time  he 
became  satisfied  that  she  was  nothing 
but  an  ignorant,  stupid  girl,  and  so 
lapsed  into  silence  and  gave  himself 
up  to  the  enjoyment  of  the  beautiful 
day  and  the  varying  scene,  so  much 
the  more  delightful  to  him  that  for 
a  week  he  had  been  shut  up  in  the 
house.  By  and  by  the  road  began  to 
descend,  and  then,  as  they  turned  one 
last  curve,  the  lake  lay  before  them  in 
all  its  beauty.  There  was  only  a 
landing  here,  a  little  wharf  with  a 
boathouse  where  there  were  a  few 
boats  for  hire,  and  a  boatman  who 


l68       "GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

would,  if  desired,  row  one  to  the 
other  side,  where,  Alice  told  him, 
there  was  quite  a  town.  He  did  not 
hesitate,  but  selecting  the  best  of  the 
boats  hired  it  for  a  little  row  (he  had 
been  stroke  of  the  'varsity  crew  at 
Harvard),  and  seating  Alice  in  the 
stern  and  telling  the  man  to  put  the 
pony  up  and  that  they  would  be  back 
in  an  hour  or  so,  he  took  the  oars  and 
pushed  out  on  to  the  lake.  As  they 
started  he  asked  Alice  to  sit  on  the 
next  seat  in  order  to  trim  the  boat, 
and  she  obediently  changed  her  place, 
simply  turning  around  so  that  she  sat 
with  her  back  to  him,  facing  the  shore 
which  they  had  left.  She  had  ceased 
to  be  anything  to  him  except  some- 
thing which  he  had  brought  out  and 
must  take  back  again,  and  he  was 
absorbed  in  his  own  thoughts  and 
sensations. 

The  lovely  green  hill  before  him 
and  the  bright  sky  over  him,  the  ex- 
hilarating motion  of  the  light  boat  on 
the  water,  all  united  to  soothe  his 
somewhat  ruffled  spirits,  and  pres- 
ently, as  he  rowed,  he  began  to  sing  ; 
some  old  college  songs  first,  then  two 


GO    FORTH    AND    FIND."        169 


or  three  little  French  songs,  which  he 
had  recently  heard  in  Paris.  He  felt 
quite  happy  and  contented.  Before 
starting  he  had  taken  a  general  sur- 
vey of  the  lake.  It  lay  through  a  sort 
of  valley  or  glen  between  a  high 
mountain  and  the  hill  which  separated 
it  from  the  one  near  Mr.  Graham's 
house.  In  some  places  it  was  as  nar- 
row as  a  river,  then  broadened  sud- 
denly into  quite  a  wide  lake  with  two 
or  three  little  low  green  islands  in  the 
midst  of  it.  The  sides  of  the  moun- 
tain which  rose  abruptly  on  the  fur- 
ther side  were  broken  here  and  there 
by  deep  rifts,  and  the  top  was  com- 
posed of  several  sharp,  pointed  peaks. 
Ned  had  decided  that  there  would  be 
just  time  to  go  down  through  the  first 
narrow,  out  around  one  of  the  islands, 
and  back  before  sunset.  He  took  the 
directions  and  rowed  out  without 
other  thought  or  consideration.  They 
had  gone  about  three-quarters  of  the 
way  to  tfie  island  when  Ned,  who  for 
the  moment  had  stopped  singing, 
glanced  up  at  the  sky  above  him. 
The  depth  of  the  blue  struck  him  as 
most  wonderful  ;  they  were  so  shut 


1 70     "  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND. 

in  by  the  hills  that  there  was  no  fad- 
ing away  toward  the  horizon  visible 
to  them,  only  infinite  blue,  deep  upon 
deep.  While  he  gazed  there  came 
before  the  vision  of  his  mind  another 
sky  of  wonderful  blue  and  a  placid 
sea  upon  which  he  and  Jack  had 
sailed  for  many  happy  days  a  few 
months  before.  A  feeling  of  loneli- 
ness came  over  him,  of  longing  for 
his  friend,  and  he  half  formed  a  proj- 
ect to  hurry  on  and  try  to  overtake 
Jack,  while  he  softly  repeated  to  him- 
self Buchanan  Reid's  lines  : 

"  My  soul  to-day  is  far  away, 
Sailing  the  Vesuvian  bay. 
My  winged  boat,  a  bird  afloat, 
Swims  round  the  purple  peaks  remote." 

Suddenly,  while  he  still  looked  up- 
ward,  there  floated  between  him  and 
these  depths  of  blue  something  al- 
most intangible,  like  a  long  streamer 
of  tulle  from  the  veil  of  a  cloud 
nymph.  It  did  not  lessen  the  splen- 
dor of  the  day,  only  made  a  softened 
effect.  Presently  another,  and  then 
three  and  four  together,  as  if  two  or 
three  white-draped  dancers  should 


UGO    FORTH    AND    FIND."        Ijl 

come  out  from  the  midst  of  the  troupe, 
waving  their  fleecy  scarves  about 
them  as  they  danced.  Then  a  host 
of  flying  clouds,  and  one  passed  over 
the  sun.  He  turned  and  looked  ; 
behind  him  down  the  mountain, 
through  every  ravine,  a  cloud  army 
was  rushing.  It  came  on,  trampling 
out  the  brightness  and  covering 
everything  with  its  pall  ;  the  shore 
disappeared  while  he  sat  resting  on 
his  oars  ;  the  water  was  gray  behind 
him  ;  he  looked  for  the  island  ;  it 
was  only  a  darker  spot  on  the  thick- 
ening gloom.  Without  more  ado,  he 
turned  and  rowed  for  the  place 
which  they  had  left ;  in  less  than 
five  minutes  that  shore  was  also  lost 
to  view,  and  they  were  alone  in  a 
mist  which  shut  them  out  from  all 
the  rest  of  the  world,  which  weighed 
on  their  eyelids  and  oppressed  their 
breath.  They  were  wet  to  the  skin, 
and  Ned  told  Alice  to  wrap  his  coat 
around  her  ;  he  had  taken  it  off  when 
he  began  to  row.  Although  he  was 
drenched  with  the  fog,  he  was  not 
cold  because  he  was  rowing  with  all 
his  might.  He  thought  that  he  was 


172        "GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 


sure  of  the  direction,  and  when  he 
supposed  himself  to  be  near  the  land- 
ing, he  drew  in  his  oars  and  shouted. 
There  was  no  answer  ;  he  shouted 
again  and  again,  but  there  was  no 
reply.  Then  he  began  rowing  up 
and  down,  stopping  every  few 
moments  and  calling.  This  went  on 
until  he  was  quite  exhausted,  and 
finally,  after  hours  of  baffled  attempts 
to  find  their  whereabouts,  he  had  to 
own  to  himself  that  there  was  nothing 
to  do  but  to  wait  for  the  fog  to  lift. 
There  they  were,  and  there  they 
must  stay,  for  he  had  no  idea,  even, 
of  the  direction  in  which  either  shore 
lay.  He  spoke  as  cheeringly  as  he 
could  to  Alice,  but  he  thought  that 
she  was  crying,  although  she  made 
no  complaint. 

The  short  summer  night  passed, 
and  with  the  first  rays  of  the  morn- 
ing sun  the  clouds  lifted  themselves 
up  and  floated  out  to  sea.  Ned  had 
no  eye  for  their  fleecy  beauty  ;  he 
only  wanted  the  shore  and  home 
with  its  material  comforts  of  warmth 
and  food.  They  found  the  pony 
tied  under  a  shed  where  the  boatmen 


"GO    FORTH    AND    FIND.  173 

had  left  him,  and,  getting  into  the 
chaise,  made  their  way  home  as  fast 
as  possible.  Ned  had  no  thought 
more  serious  than  breakfast,  but  he 
remembered  afterward  a  look  of  fear 
in  Alice's  pale,  colorless  face,  and 
believed  that  she  was  still  crying, 
because  she  turned  her  face  from 
him. 

"  Well,  here  we  are  safe  and 
sound,"  he  said  heartily  to  the  min- 
ister, who  was  waiting  for  them  at  the 
door  when  they  drove  up.  Mr.  Gra- 
ham did  not  speak,  but  opened  the 
door  and  they  went  in.  Ned  ad- 
vanced to  the  fire  and  Mr.  Graham 
waved  Alice  out  of  the  room. 

"To  your  chamber,  girl,"  he  said. 

She  left  the  room,  and  Ned  heard 
a  smothered  sob  as  the  door  closed 
behind  her.  Then  Mr.  Graham 
turned  to  him  and  said. 

"  Is  this  the  way  in  which  you  re- 
pay me  for  having  violated  the  usage 
of  my  people,  that  you  have  brought 
shame  and  dishonor  into  my  family, 
and  have  made  my  name  to  be  a 
by-word  and  a  hissing  among  my 
neighbors  ?  " 


i3»I7SRSITr 


174        "GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

Ned  stared  at  him'  and  then 
laughed,  and  said  : 

"  My  dear  Mr.  Graham,  there  is 
no  by-word  or  hissing  about  this 
business  at  all.  It  has  only  been  an 
accident,  and  not  a  serious  one  either, 
and  unless  she  has  taken  cold,  which 
I  think  more  than  probable,  your 
daughter  has  had  no  harm  from  it." 

Not  to  draw  the  story  out  too  long, 
there  was  no  use  in  trying  to  reason 
with  the  old  man.  He  was  convinced 
that  his  daughter's  good  name  was 
gone,  that  never  a  lad  in  the  country 
would  think  of  marrying  her  after  a 
night  spent  out  in  a  boat  with  a 
stranger,  and  between  his  reproaches 
and  prayers  and  threatened  curses, 
at  last  Ned's  wrath  rose  to  such  a 
pitch  that  he  lost  all  reason  and  fore- 
sight. 

"  You  have  ruined  my  daughter," 
Mr.  Graham  said,  "  and  have  pulled 
down  my  gray  hairs  to  drag  them  in 
the  dust  before  the  heathen." 

Finally,  when  he  could  stand  it  no 
longer,  Ned  said  : 

"Very  well,  Mr.  Graham,  I  will 
marry  your  daughter,  and  at  once, 


"GO    FORTH    AND    FIND.'        175 

because  I  leave  immediately  for  the 
south." 

Mr.  Graham  made  no  delay,  and 
when  Ned,  sullen  and  full  of  wrath, 
came  downstairs  from  packing  his 
portmanteau,  the  simple  preparations 
were  made,  and  standing  there  in  the 
parlor  of  the  Manse,  Ned  Harlowand 
Alice  Graham  were  married,  the  mar- 
riage being  performed  by  the  father. 
Ned  did  not  look  at  Alice  ;  he  knew 
that  she  was  trembling  and  sobbing, 
but  he  only  thought  of  her  as  one 
chief  element  in  the  awful  nightmare 
from  which  he  more  than  half  hoped 
to  wake.  When  the  scant  ceremony 
was  finished,  Ned  took  from  his 
pocket-book  a  note  for  a  hundred 
pounds,  which  he  placed  on  the  table 
beside  Mr.  Graham. 

"  For  her  expenses  until  you  hear 
from  me,"  he  said. 

Without  a  word  or  look  for  his 
bride  he  left  the  house. 

He  was  maddened,  and  did  not 
think  of  joining  his  cousins,  but  went 
as  quickly  as  possible  to  Paris,  feel- 
ing that  there  would  be  more  chance 
to  lose  himself  in  the  whirl  and  ex- 


176        "GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

citement  of  that  city  than  anywhere 
else.  He  never  knew  how  he  passed 
the  next  few  weeks,  but  by  and  by  he 
sat  down  to  think  the  problem  out. 
First  he  wrote  Jack  a  long  letter  tell- 
ing him  what  had  happened  and  ask- 
ing him  to  hurry  on  and  help  him 
out.  Before  this  letter  was  mailed 
he  received  Jack's  letter  from  San 
Francisco  telling  of  his  engagement 
to  Bessie,  and,  cursing  all  women,  he 
tore  his  own  letter  up.  Then  he  con- 
sulted a  lawyer,  but  received  no  en- 
couragement from  him.  Finally  he 
wrote  to  his  lawyer  in  Boston,  telling 
him  a  part  of  the  story.  He  gave 
instructions  that  a  certain  sum  of 
money  should  be  sent  to  Alice  quar- 
terly, that  if  she  died  or  wished  for  a 
divorce,  he  should  be  informed  of  it, 
and  that  otherwise  she  should  not  be 
mentioned  to  him.  This  done,  he  cut 
loose  from  all  ties  and  restraints  and 
floated  idly  down  the  stream. 

When  Jack  had  finished  his  cur- 
tailed account  of  Ned's  story  he 
paused  and  then  said  : 

"  Now,  you  know  all  about  it, 
Bessie,  except  this  :  I  have  been  try- 


"GO    FORTH    AND    FIND.  177 

ing  to  persuade  Ned  to  face  this 
problem  of  his  life  in  a  new  way,  to 
go  to  Scotland,  see  Alice,  and 
straighten  things  out.  We  have 
talked  it  over  and  over  during  his 
own  sickness  and  yours,  for  which 
he  considers  himself  responsible.  It 
would  be  too  much  to  say  that  he  has 
decided  to  go,  but  I  am  sure  he  is 
very  much  inclined  to." 

Bessie  lay  quite  still  for  several 
moments,  then  she  said  : 

"  Jack,  dear,  was  there  any  particu- 
lar reason  for  your  not  having  told 
me?" 

He  flushed  a  little,  but  answered  : 

"  Yes,  Bessie  ;  you  know  that  I 
often  think  you  are  a  little  hard  in 
your  judgment  of  people,  and  I  was 
afraid  that  you  would  think  badly  of 
Ned  and  would  not  like  him.  He 
and  I  are  such  old  friends,  and  I  did 
not  want  to  prejudice  you  against 
him." 

Bessie's  lip  quivered,  but  she  said: 

"  It  was  just  such  a  reason  that 
kept  me  from  telling  him  about 
Helen." 

After  a  little  while  she  asked  : 


I7&      "GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

"  What  do  you  think  Ned  could  do 
if  he  went  to  Scotland,  Jack  ?  " 

"  I  think,"  he  answered,  "  he  is 
fully  convinced  that  he  has  made  a 
great  mistake  in  living  as  he  has 
done,  and  that  he  ought  to  be  pre- 
pared to  make  great  sacrifices  to 
bring  things  into  a  normal  condition/' 

He  spoke  so  solemnly  and  with  an 
air  of  such  immense  superiority  that 
Bessie  laughed. 

"  I  suppose,"  she  said,  "  you  mean 
that  he  should  go  over  to  this  poor 
little  Alice,  and,  if  she  has  not  cried 
herself  to  death,  and  will  not  give 
him  a  divorce,  and  he  can  bring  him- 
self to  bear  the  sight  of  her,  he  might 
hold  out  his  lordly  hand  to  her  and 
allow  her  to  come  to  him.  I  do  not 
think  much  of  his  chances,"  she 
added,  laughing  again  ;  "  she  must 
be  twenty-one  now." 

Jack  looked  troubled  and  dis- 
mayed, but  Bessie  said  : 

"  Carry  me  in  now  and  go  away. 
I  am  tired." 


XVI. 

"  Love,  that  what  time  his  own  hands  guard 

his  head, 
The   whole    world's   wrath   and    strength 

shall  not  strike  dead  ; 
Love,  that  if  once  his  own  hands  make  his 

grave, 
The  whole  world's  pity  and  sorrow  shall 

not  save." 

T  is  not  too  much  to  say 
that  Bessie  was  plunged 
into  profound  gloom  by 
Jack's  recital.  True,  she 
already  knew  that  Helen 
was  married,  but  she  also  knew 
that  she  loved  Ned,  and  Bessie 
was  young  and  had  almost  absolute 
faith  in  the  final  triumph  of  love.  It 
would  be  hard  to  say  how  she  had 
hoped  that  things  would  come  out 
right ;  probably  unjust  to  intimate 
that  she  had  prayed  that  they  might 
receive  word  that  Jose*  de  Santa 


iSo        "  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

Yberri  was  dead,  but  that  she  would 
have  hailed  such  news  as  an  evident 
interference  of  Providence  there  can 
be  no  doubt.  Now  there  would  be 
no  use  even  in  this,  and  no  one  could 
expect  two  people  to  die  off  in  order 
that  two  others  might  be  happy. 
Also,  while  she  now  felt  all  Helen's 
pain  and  sorrow,  she  could  not  help 
realizing  the  matter  a  little  from 
the  position  of  poor  Alice  Graham, 
dragged  out  and  forced  to  marry  a 
man  who  did  not  even  look  at  her, 
and  who,  without  once  thinking  of 
her,  had  left  her  to  live  out  her  whole 
life  without  happiness  or  hope.  She 
felt  something  very  like  resentment 
toward  Ned,  and  finally  her  poor 
little  head  summed  it  all  up. 

"All  people  are  tiresome,"  she  said, 
"  they  are  all  either  wretched  or 
making  other  people  so." 

She  was  wearily  turning  this  way 
and  that  for  comfort,  and  finding 
none,  when  the  servant  brought  the 
mail.  Among  the  letters  was  one 
bearing  the  Milan  postmark  ;  it  gave 
her  quite  a  new  pang  to  see  it. 

"  Poor    Helen,  poor  dear   sister," 


"GO    FORTH    AND    FIND."        l8l 

she  said  and  kissed  the  writing  be- 
fore she  read  it. 

"  MILAN,  March  25,  189-. 
"  MY  DARLING  BESSIE  : 

"  This  afternoon  I  am  going  to  the 
Convent  of  Notre  Dame  for  a  few 
weeks  and  will  not  be  able  to  write 
soon  again.  Before  I  go  I  have  a 
great  deal  to  tell  you,  partly  because 
I  wish  you  to  feel  satisfied  about  me, 
and  partly  because  I  wish  to  atone 
for  my  injustice  to  you. 

"  Yesterday  afternoon  when  I  went 
to  my  room,  after  teaching  the  chil- 
dren, I  was  very  weary.  Not  only 
weary,  but  the  constant  pain  and 
longing  in  my  heart  had  grown  to  be 
almost  unendurable.  I  sat  down  to 
read  my  devotions  for  the  evening, 
but  the  words  meant  nothing  to  me. 
My  bodily  eyes  read  them,  but  before 
the  inward  vision  of  my  soul  there 
passed  scene  after  scene  of  my  stay 
at  El  Ermita,  and  by  and  by  I  laid 
the  book  down  and  gave  myself  up 
to  living  it  all  over  again.  Every 
moment  as  I  sat  there,  in  that  de- 
licious dream,  the  memory  grew 


182      "GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

dearer  and  sweeter,  and  life  here, 
the  life  that  I  had  planned,  seemed 
more  repulsive  and  impossible.  Then 
across  it  all  came  the  memory  of  my 
marriage  and  all  the  trouble  and 
degradation  of  that  time.  I  felt 
bitter  and  angry  that  my  whole  life 
should  be  wasted  because  of  the 
wickedness  of  another.  It  was 
wasted  before,  I  thought,  but  now, 
when  all  that  makes  life  glorious 
and  beautiful  is  here,  within  my 
reach,  held  out  to  my  longing  arms, 
now  it  is  not  to  be  borne.  So  think- 
ing and  feeling,  it  flashed  into  my 
mind  that  there  was  a  remedy,  a  cure 
for  all.  I  shut  my  ears  to  the  voices 
which  called  to  me  to  forbear  ;  my 
whole  passionate,  undisciplined  heart 
called  out  for  happiness,  and  I  deter- 
mined to  take  it.  I  went  to  my  desk 
and  wrote  to  papa,  not  telling  him 
why,  but  simply  saying  that  I  wished 
to  be  free,  that  I  could  no  longer  en- 
dure being  bound  to  a  man  who  had 
wrecked  my  life,  and  asking  him  to 
take  steps  at  once  and  get  me  a 
divorce.  When  I  had  sealed  and 
addressed  the  letter,  I  found  that  the 


"  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND."       183 

little  boy  who  posts  my  letters  had 
gone  for  the  night,  and  remembering 
that  the  mail  would  not  close  until 
eleven  o'clock  the  next  morning,  was 
satisfied. 

"  However,  I  considered  that  the 
divorce  was  just  the  same  as  an  ac- 
complished fact  and  gave  myself  up 
to  planning  my  future.  I  decided  that 
after  I  had  posted  my  letter  the  next 
day,  I  would  go  up  to  a  little  village 
in  the  Bavarian  Alps,  where  I  have  a 
dear  friend  ;  there  I  could  wait ;  the 
place  is  lovely  and  I  am  always  con- 
tented there,  and  then  when  I  was 
free  I  would  send  for  him  ;  I  would 
simply  say  '  Come  to  me  !  '  I  thought 
of  his  coming,  of  how  his  eyes  would 
look  into  mine,  of  the  question  they 
would  ask  which  mine  would  answer 
with  such  joy.  I  felt  his  arms  fold 
around  me  and  it  seemed  to  me  that 
there  was  endless  joy  and  happiness 
in  store  for  me.  I  went  to  the  win- 
dow which  looks  toward  the  west. 
I  opened  it  and  stretched  my  arms 
out  to  him  and  said  :  *  Oh,  my  love, 
my  love,  wait  just  for  a  little  while.' 
Then  I  went  to  bed,  but  not  to  sleep  ; 


184        "  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

my  heart  was  too  full  of  imaginations 
and  dreams  of  the  future.  At  last, 
however,  toward  morning,  I  fell  into 
a  doze.  Presently  I  became  con- 
scious that  someone  stood  in  my 
room,  close  to  the  foot  of  the  bed.  I 
did  not  look  up  at  first,  but  it  was 
borne  into  my  mind  that  I  was  in  the 
presence  of  great  sorrow.  I  opened 
my  eyes  and  with  an  icy  shiver  saw 
the  blue  of  her  garment,  the  celestial 
blue  that  fell  down  about  her  feet  and 
lay  on  the  floor.  Now  I  saw  that 
Father  Anselmo  stood  just  behind 
her,  and  compelled  by  a  power  which 
I  could  not  withstand,  I  raised  my 
eyes  slowly  until  they  met  hers.  In 
an  instant  I  had  risen  from  my  bed 
and  fallen  at  her  feet.  All,  all  came 
back  to  me.  This  was  she  whose 
tender  love  and  pity  had  led  me 
through  my  sorrow  planted  path, 
through  whose  care  and  guidance  I 
had  been  reconciled  to  my  life.  I 
remembered  how  my  heart  had  been 
filled  with  gratitude  to  her  as,  kneel- 
ing at  her  shrine,  there  had  come  to 
me  the  idea  of  making  my  life  good 
and  useful,  and  blessed,  by  minister- 


"GO     FORTH     AND     FIND."      185 

ing  to  the  poor  who  are  her  especial 
care  ;  and  how  I  had  even  been  able 
to  pardon  Jose,  yes,  to  pardon  him 
and  pray  for  him,  and  to  hope  that 
through  her  intercession  and  my  con- 
stant prayers  he  might  be  brought 
away  from  his  wicked  life  into  the 
blessed  kingdom. 

"  Now  I  had  cast  all  this  from  me, 
for  the  sake  of  this  new  earthly  love  ; 
I  had  sacrificed  all  peace  and  useful- 
ness here,  and  heaven  hereafter.  As 
I  lay  sobbing  at  her  feet,  I  became 
conscious  that  Father  Anselmo  knelt 
and  joined  his  supplications  to  mine. 
Would  she  take  me  back  again  ?  Had 
I  indeed  lost  all  my  part  in  the  Blessed 
Mother's  love  ?  No  !  She  stooped 
tenderly  over  me,  I  felt  her  blessing 
fall  upon  me,  and  heard  her  sweet 
whisper  :  '  Courage,  dear  child  ;  I 
have  trod  the  thorny  path  before 
you  ;  I  will  go  with  you  now  ! ' 

"  Was  it  a  dream  or  a  vision  ?  I  do 
not  know.  I  awoke  to  find  myself 
alone,  lying  on  the  floor  of  my  room, 
my  face  wet  with  tears.  An  unutter- 
able sadness  filled  my  heart.  Sud- 
denly I  saw  the  letter  which  I  had 


l86      "GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

written  the  night  before  lying  on  my 
desk  ;  I  took  it,  and  tearing  it  in 
pieces,  burned  it,  and  with  a  reaction 
of  thankfulness  that  was  almost  joy  I 
knelt  and  thanked  the  dear  Lord  who 
had  saved  me  when  I  had  almost  de- 
stroyed myself. 

"  I  do  not  know  how  it  is,  dear 
Bessie,  but  I  am  changed.  I  seem  to 
myself  to  have  died  to  that  world  of 
last  night  and  to  be  born  into  an- 
other. Now  I  am  going  to  the  con- 
vent to  spend  a  little  time  alone  with 
my  new  life  and  my  own  thoughts. 
Pray  for  me  and  farewell. 

"  HELEN  DE  SANTA  YBERRI." 

Bessie  laid  the  letter  down  and 
covered  her  face  with  her  hands. 
She  foresaw  the  inevitable  result  and, 
with  her  natural  Protestant  preju- 
dices, could  not  endure  that  Helen, 
her  bright,  beautiful  sister,  fit  as  she 
was  to  adorn  a  court,  should  be  lost 
and  buried  in  a  convent.  Her  heart 
grew  cold  as  she  pictured  her  in  the 
stiff  garb  of  a  conventual  life,  going 
here  and  there  at  another's  bidding, 
without  hope  or  desire,  without  dear 


"  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND."      187 


home  pleasures  or  pains.  She  saw 
her  face  grown  still  and  white  and 
expressionless  as  her  life,  and  groan- 
ing aloud,  she  exclaimed  : 

"  No,  it  must  not  be  ;  I  will  not 
have  it  so  !  " 

Clasping  her  hands  under  her 
head  she  began  to  form  apian  ;  she 
would  go  over  soon,  very  soon  ;  she 
would  take  Helen  away  with  her, 
would  surround  her  with  loving  care 
and  gay  pleasures,  and  so  win  her 
back  to  life.  "  Wait !  "  said  a  voice, 
and  another  picture  presented  itself 
to  Bessie's  mind.  Suppose  that  Helen 
had  carried  out  her  original  plan  ; 
Bessie  knew  that  her  father  would  be 
only  too  glad  to  get  a  divorce  for  her 
from  her  worthless  husband.  Sup- 
pose she  had  gotten  it  and  then  had 
sent  for  Ned  ;  he  would  certainly 
have  gone  to  her  from  the  end  of  the 
earth.  Suppose  that  he  had  gone, 
and  Helen,  waiting  to  throw  herself 
into  his  arms,  to  find  in  his  love  the 
balm  for  all  her  sorrows  and  the  de- 
light of  her  life,  had  learned  that 
there  existed  between  them  another 
barrier  ;  that  at  the  very  time  when 


l88      aGO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

he  bent  to  kiss  her  hair  an  innocent 
girl,  bound  to  him  through  no  fault 
of  hers,  but  rather  through  his  own 
weakness  and  rashness  (Bessie  called 
it  so  now  from  this  standpoint),  was 
his  lawful  wedded  wife,  would  she 
not  in  her  wrath  and  shame  have 
said  "  all  men  are  liars "  ?  Bessie 
knew  full  well  that  she  would,  and 
she  recalled  the  stern,  hard  face 
which  had  bent  over  her  when  Helen 
had  said,  "  I  will  never  forgive 
you  !  " 

Presently  Bessie  turned  away  from 
this  view  and  now  began  to  make  ex- 
cuses for  Ned.  She  was  quite  sure 
that  he  had  never  intended  to  tell  his 
love  to  Helen,  but  coming  on  her  so 
unexpectedly,  sleeping  in  the  ham- 
mock, his  heart  had  failed  him  just 
for  a  moment.  She  went  on  :  What 
was  he  to  this  little  Scotch  girl  ? 
Might  it  not  be  possible  if  she  (Bessie) 
should  go  to  her,  she  might  be 
persuaded  to  grant  him  a  divorce? 
Helen  and  Ned  seemed  born  for  each 
other  and  they  loved  each  other.  It 
must  be  done  some  way.  Across  the 
pathway  of  her  thoughts,  forbidding 


"GO     FORTH     AND     FIND."      189 

them  to  go  further  in  this  direction, 
rose  Helen's  scornful  face.  What  ! 
she  to  love  a  man  who  was  so  weak, 
so  wickedly  weak  toward  herself  that 
he  had  dared  to  make  his  love  known 
to  her  when  he  could  not  offer  it  to 
her  honorably  ?  No,  a  thousand 
times,  no  !  This  could  be  no  solution. 
At  last  Bessie  fully  realized  that  the 
deathblow  of  this  love  which  looked 
so  beautiful,  but  which  was  false  at 
the  core,  had  been  already  struck. 
"  O  Ned  !  O  Helen  !  "  she  said  to 
herself,  "  you  have  yourselves  made 
everything  impossible,"  and  she  re- 
peated softly  : 

"  Love,  that  if  once  his  own  hands  make  his 

grave, 

The  whole  world's  pity  and  sorrow  shall 
not  save." 

She  closed  her  eyes,  from  which 
the  tears  were  falling.  Again  she 
seemed  to  see  Helen,  in  her  simple 
nun's  dress,  standing  surrounded  by 
a  wonderful  choir  of  children  ;  some 
were  large  and  some  small,  but  all 
turned  their  eyes  in  admiration  and 
love  toward  Helen,  and  on  her  face 


GO     FORTH     AND     FIND. 


there  shone  the  serene  light  of  satis- 
fied mother-love. 

All  about  through  the  aisles  of  the 
church  where  they  were,  was  gathered 
a  throng  of  the  poor,  beggars  in  their 
rags,  the  sick,  and  lame,  and  blind 
knelt  there.  Then  the  sweet  child 
voices,  guided  and  sustained  by 
Helen's,  rose  and  rose  and  filled  the 
arches  with  songs  of  praise,  and  hard 
faces  grew  soft,  sad  faces  smiled,  and 
over  all  came  a  look  of  the  peace 
which  passeth  all  understanding. 
"  Gloria  Patri,"  sang  the  voices,  and 
Bessie  slipped  from  her  couch  to  her 
knees,  and  joining  them,  prayed  : 

"  Dear  Father,  keep  Helen's  heart 
close  to  the  little  human  children,  and 
do  not  let  me  forget  Thy  heaven  be- 
cause earth  is  so  dear." 


XVII. 

N  giving  Bessie  to  under- 
stand     that    Ned    would 

probably  go  to  Scotland, 
*  <j  /  ^  i\ 

k  (?Jr    Ja  been   governed 

*§?ts!^J'  more  by  his  own  desire 
than  by  any  statement  made  by 
Ned.  It  often  happens  that  one 
sees  quite  clearly  the  course  that 
ought  to  be  pursued  by  a  friend, 
and  that  in  trying  to  convince  him 
one  becomes  the  dupe  of  one's  own 
eloquence.  The  arguments  appear- 
ing unanswerable,  the  thing  seems 
to  be  settled.  It  was  so  with  Jack 
now.  He  was  so  certain  that  he  had 
struck  upon  the  right  thing  for  Ned 
to  do  that  he  felt  almost  as  if  it  were 
accomplished,  all  troubles  cleared  up, 
and  Ned  in  some  way  ready  to  live 
happy  ever  afterward.  This  was  far 
from  being  the  case.  Ned  was  indeed 


IQ2        "  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND. 

very  unhappy  that  through  him  and  his 
ill-fate,  as  he  called  it,  all  this  trouble 
and  pain  had  come  to  Bessie  and 
Jack.  It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that 
he  would  have  been  glad  to  have  un- 
done, by  any  sacrifice  or  effort  that 
was  possible,  all  the  mischief  which 
had  come  to  them  through  him.  For 
this  reason,  and  because  he  knew 
that  any  sign  which  he  should  give 
of  his  real  feelings  or  intentions 
would  only  add  to  their  trouble,  he 
said  nothing.  He  let  Jack  talk  on  to 
him  about  going  to  Scotland,  and  as- 
sented in  a  general  way  to  his  argu- 
ments. But  never  for  one  moment 
did  he  hesitate  as  to  what  he  would 
do.  Day  after  day  he  lay  in  a  big 
easy-chair  before  the  fire,  his  lame 
leg  stretched  comfortably  out  on  a 
rest,  seeming  to  listen,  while  Jack  in 
endless  new  forms  repeated  his  as- 
surances that  the  only  thing  that 
gives  a  man  any  real  satisfaction  in 
this  world  is  the  sense  of  duty  well 
done  ;  but  what  he  really  heard  was 
a  sweet  passionate  voice  singing  : 

"  Let  all  else,  all  thou  wilt  of  evil  be, 
But  no  doom,  none,  dividing  him  and  me." 


"GO     FORTH     AND     FIND.         193 

When  Jack  paused,  expecting  a 
reply,  he  nodded  his  head  in  assent 
and  closed  his  eyes,  while  over  his 
senses  there  came  the  hush  of  a  sum- 
mer afternoon,  and  the  odor  of  the 
lavender,  and  the  hum  of  the  bees, 
mingled  with  the  thrill  that  passed 
over  him  at  the  touch  of  her  hair. 
To  see  her  !  Just  to  see  her,  that 
was  all.  He  must  and  would  do  that, 
and  then,  after  that,  life  had  no  plan 
for  him. 

When  he  had  been  able  to  walk 
without  a  crutch  for  a  day  or  two,  he 
went  down  to  Dr.  Markham's  office, 
and  asked  him  if  it  could  not  be  pos- 
sible for  him  to  see  Mrs.  Winthrop. 
He  said  that  he  was  going  away  from 
California,  possibly  for  a  long  time, 
and  that  naturally  he  was  very  un- 
willing to  go  without  seeing  her. 
Dr.  Markham  told  him  that  he  might 
go  to  see  her,  but  warned  him  neither 
to  stay  long  nor  let  any  mention  be 
made  of  matters  which  might  agitate 
her. 

"  She  is  by  no  means  out  of  the 
woods  yet,"  he  said. 

So  it  happened  that  Ned  went  up, 


194      "GO     FORTH     AND     FIND. 

one  night  after  dinner,  just  to  say 
good-by.  Bessie  lay  on  her  couch, 
and  Mrs.  Gary  sat  on  one  side  of 
it  reading  aloud  to  her.  Ned  and 
Jack  came  in  together  ;  Ned  looked 
rather  pale  and  walked  a  little  lame. 
He  came  up  to  the  couch,  sat  down 
beside  it,  and  taking  Bessie's  hand  in 
both  of  his  looked  into  her  changed, 
wasted  face.  The  moisture  gathered 
in  his  eyes  as  sometimes  it  will  in  a 
strong  man's,  and  his  voice  trembled 
as  he  said  : 

"  Thank  God  !  " 

Bessie  pressed  his  hand  and  smiled, 
saying  : 

"  Yes,  indeed,  dear  Ned,  for  you 
and  for  me.  What  was  it  Tiny  Tim 
used  to  say — *  God  bless  us  all  every 
one'?" 

They  only  stayed  for  a  few  min- 
utes. Ned  told  her  he  was  going 
away  for  a  little  while,  that  she  must 
make  haste  and  get  strong  before  he 
came  back;  asked  what  he  could  bring 
her  from  Paris, 'and  played  with  such 
cheerful  fictions.  Meanwhile  he  said 
to  himself,  no  matter  what  happened, 
he  would  probably  never  see  her  dear 


"GO     FORTH     AND     FIND.         195 

sweet  face  again,  and  she,  divining 
more  truly  than  Jack  had  what  was 
in  his  mind,  dreaded  yet  longed  to 
tell  him  of  Helen  and  her  letter,  but 
did  not  dare,  feeling  that  if  she  spoke 
at  all,  she  would  break  down  utterly. 

The  next  day  he  went  away.  Jack 
went  with  him  across  the  bay  to  the 
Oakland  Mole,  and  stood  beside  the 
car  until  it  started,  Ned  standing  on 
the  platform,silent  and  self-repressed. 
When  the  bell  rang  and  the  train 
moved  slowly  out,  Jack  wrung  his 
hand,  saying  : 

"  I  wish  you  the  best  luck  in  the 
world." 

Then  he  went  home  quite  satisfied 
that  all  was  going  well. 

Ned  went  into  his  section  in  the 
Pullman  car  and  sat  down.  He  drew 
his  traveling  cap  over  his  eyes.  It 
seemed  to  him  that  fetters  had  fallen 
from  him  ;  that  he  had  escaped  from 
prison.  All  through  the  journey 
across  the  continent,  across  the 
ocean,  on  to  Milan,  he  went  as  one 
in  a  dream.  He  did  not  speak  ex- 
cept to  give  necessary  orders  and 
attend  to  necessary  business.  He 


196      "GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

did  not  think,  or  at  least  not  to  com- 
plete his  thoughts,  and  if  he  had  been 
forced  to  define  his  plan  to  himself, 
he  would  have  said  that  he  had  none 
except  to  go  to  Milan  and  to  see 
Helen.  Nevertheless,  through  the 
days  and  nights  of  that  journey  his 
soul  rioted  in  a  life  made  partly  from 
the  memory  of  every  minutest  part 
of  that  four  weeks  at  El  Ermita,  and 
partly  from  vague  but  delicious  an- 
ticipation. He  telegraphed  to  his 
bankers  to  deposit  for  him  a  large 
sum  of  money  with  their  correspond- 
ents in  Milan,  for  what  reason  he  did 
not  tell  himself. 

When  he  arrived  in  Milan  he 
waited  quietly  for  some  time.  It  was 
so  much  to  feel  that  she  was  near, 
that  his  hurry  ceased.  He  made  in- 
quiries  and  soon  found  her  school,  and 
also  that  she  lived  at  the  Convent  of 
Notre  Dame.  Many  times  a  day  he 
walked  about  the  convent  and  the 
little  house  where  she  taught  the 
children.  One  day,  when  he  had 
been  in  Milan  for  about  a  week,  he 
found,  as  he  came  near  to  the  house, 
that  the  windows  were  open.  The 


"GO    FORTH     AND     FIND.         197 

children  were  singing.  He  waited, 
and  soon  her  voice,  the  same  dear, 
lovely  voice,  came  to  his  ears,  singing 
with  them.  He  trembled  so  that  he 
could  scarcely  walk  firmly,  but  he 
did  riot  go  in  ;  not  that  day.  Why  ? 
Because,  although  in  an  indefinite 
way  he  hoped  much,  in  the  same  in- 
definite way  he  feared  much,  and  the 
present,  to  be  where  she  was,  to  say 
in  the  morning  "  To-day  it  may  be," 
and  at  night,  "  Perhaps  to-morrow," 
this  was  too  precious  to  be  lightly 
thrown  away. 

Two  weeks  passed  in  this  way.  One 
day  he  went  down  to  the  little  house 
and  waited  until  the  ragged  children 
came  out  of  the  door,  and  as  the  last 
one  passed  he  stood  on  the  threshold 
and  Helen  was  before  him.  She 
started  a  little  when  she  first  saw  him, 
then  her  eyes  met  his,  frankly  and 
kindly,  but  oh  !  with  such  depths  of 
quiet  in  them.  They  did  not  kindle 
nor  warm  at  the  light  in  his,  but,  on 
the  contrary,  he  grew  cold  and  still 
while  they  stood  looking  at  each 
other.  Then  she  spoke.  She  made 
no  pretense  of  not  understanding 


198      "  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

why  he  had  come.  She  motioned  to 
him  to  come  in  and  seat  himself,  and 
standing  near  him  said  : 

"  I  did  not  think  to  see  you  again. 
Not  here.  But  perhaps  it  is  better 
so,  because  there  is  something  which 
I  am  very  glad  to  say  to  you.  It  is 
terrible  to  me  to  realize  that  this  has 
been  harder  for  you  than  for  me, 
because  you  did  not  know,  and  I 
have  wanted  to  ask  you  to  pardon 
me  for  all  ;  and  then  I  want  to  tell 
you  that  the  pain  has  passed  from 
my  life  ;  all  except  my  sorrow  for 
your  unhappiness,  and  I  want," — she 
came  nearer  to  him — "  I  want  to  ask 
you  not  to  throw  your  life  away  ;  but 
to  live  it,  to  go  on  with  your  work 
and  do  it  grandly,  and  to  tell  you  that 
always,  always,  I  am  praying  for 
you." 

Her  voice  grew  soft  with  entreaty 
at  the  last  words,  and  Ned  reached 
out  his  arms. 

"Helen,  Helen  !/' 

She  drew  back  and  said  quickly  : 

"  Dear  friend,  we  have  nothing  to 
do  with  anything  that  might  have 
been — only  with  what  is  ;  is  it  not  so  ? 


"GO     FORTH     AND     FIND.         199 

I  have  my  work  and  you  have  yours. 
It  was  kind  of  you  to  come  to  say 
good-by,  and  it  is  time  for  me  to  go." 

She  moved  toward  the  door,  but 
Ned  stood  between  it  and  her. 

"No,  no  !  "  he  said  ;  "  you  must 
hear  me  first." 

Then  he  poured  out  his  whole 
heart  to  her.  He  told  her  of  the 
blight  which  had  fallen  on  him,  of  all 
his  wretched  wandering  life  which 
had  never  known  joy  or  happiness 
until  he  had  found  her.  With  the 
passion  of  one  pleading  for  more 
than  life,  he  implored  her  not  to  send 
him  away  in  despair  and  hopeless- 
ness for  the  sake  of  an  idea,  and 
begged  her  to  consider  well  if  she 
had  the  right  to  sacrifice  his  body 
and  soul,  as  well  as  her  own  love,  to 
the  baseless  fabric  of  a  conventional 
law.  The  quick  blood  had  rushed 
to  Helen's  face  and  brow  when  she 
heard  that  Ned  had  a  wife.  For  a 
moment  there  quivered  around  her 
mouth  a  look  of  anger  and  scorn  ; 
then  it  passed,  leaving  her  a  little 
paler.  But  before  he  had  finished 
his  anguished  appeal  the  same  quiet, 


2OO      "  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND. 

serene  look  that  had  greeted  him 
when  he  entered  the  little  room 
rested  in  her  eyes  and  on  her  face. 
When  he  paused  for  breath  she  said  : 

"  I  have  asked  you  to  pardon  me  ; 
remember  that  I  also  pardon  you." 

She  passed  quickly  by  him  and 
was  gone.  The  next  day  the  little 
house  was  closed,  the  school  opened 
in  the  convent,  and  the  follow- 
ing week  Helen  entered  upon  her 
novitiate. 

When  Ned  learned  this  he  cabled 
to  Jack  :  "  Tout  est  fini.  Adieu" 
Then  he  disappeared  from  their 
world. 


XVIII. 

'HEN  Ned  had  gone,  Jack 
thought  life  would  resume 
its  normal  condition.  In 
the  first  place  he  was  very 
much  pleased  with  himself; 
he  had  helped  to  straighten  Ned's 
life  and  start  him  in  the  right  direc- 
tion, and  this  in  itself  was  sufficient 
to  give  a  tone  of  quiet  content  to  his 
thoughts.  He  turned  his  attention 
to  his  own  work  and  soon  was  as 
much  absorbed  in  it  as  ever.  He 
went  each  morning  to  have  a  little 
chat  with  Bessie,  and,  as  she  always 
greeted  him  gayly  and  talked  with 
great  interest  of  all  that  he  was 
doing,  he  did  not  notice  that  her  im- 
provement had  come  to  an  end.  The 
relief  from  the  fear  that  she  would 
die  was  so  great,  and  he  had  grown 
so  used  to  seeing  her  lie  helplessly 


202      "GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

on  her  couch,  that  he  had  not  real- 
ized the  true  condition  of  the  case, 
which  was  nevertheless  giving  the 
doctor  and  nurse  great  concern.  The 
disease  was  conquered,  life  was  saved, 
but  the  elasticity,  the  inward  force 
which  would  bring  her  back  to  living 
relation  with  the  people  and  things 
around  her  seemed  to  be  lacking. 
Day  after  day  she  lay  on  her  couch 
or  sat  in  an  easy-chair  with  tired, 
listless  hands  lying  on  her  lap,  and  a 
dreary  look  in  her  great  black  eyes. 
Nothing  seemed  worth  while. 

One  evening,  about  two  weeks 
after  Ned  had  gone,  Jack  sat  in  his 
library,  pencil  in  hand,  looking  over 
his  manuscript,  changing  a  word  now 
and  then  as  he  read.  There  came  a 
soft  rap  at  the  door,  and  in  response 
to  his  invitation  Mrs.  Gary  entered. 
She  came  up  to  the  table  and  said  : 

"  Have  you  thought  what  you  will 
do  when  I  go  away,  Mr.  Winthrop  ? 
My  time  is  very  short  now,  and  I 
want  very  much  to  go  down  to  Santa 
Barbara  where  my  daughter  is,  be- 
fore I  go  back  to  my  work  at  home. 
Mrs.  Winthrop  does  not  get  as  strong 


GO     FORTH     AND     FIND."      203 


as  I  hoped  and  thought  she  would, 
and  while  I  feel  that  I  must  go  I 
hesitate  to  leave  her." 

Jack  sat  with  his  pencil  suspended 
in  the  air,  perfectly  thunderstruck. 
It  had  not  occurred  to  him  that  Mrs. 
Gary  would  have  to  go,  and  now  as 
he  stared  at  her,  and  thought  of 
Bessie  deprived  of  her  care,  he  was 
more  than  troubled.  He  felt  very 
helpless  when  he  realized  that  all 
the  responsibility  of  the  care  of  his 
fragile  little  wife  would  soon  rest 
on  him. 

"  What  do  you  think  it  would  be 
the  best  to  do,  Mrs.  Gary  ? "  he 
asked. 

"  I  talked  to  Dr.  Markham  about 
it  this  morning,"  she  answered,  "  and 
he  thinks  that  she  must  have  a 
change.  If  you  could  arrange  to 
take  her  East,  I  would  leave  her  for 
a  week  or  two,  and  then  come  back 
here,  to  take  care  of  her  on  her  jour- 
ney. If  we  have  some  pleasant  plan 
to  propose  to  her,  when  I  first  tell 
her  that  I  must  go,  I  think  she  will 
rally,  and  then  by  the  time  that  we 
arrive  in  New  York,  or  wherever 


204      "GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 


you  decide  to  go,  she  will  probably 
be  much  better,  and,  of  course,  if  she 
is  not,  we  must  then  decide  what  to 
do  next." 

Jack  thanked  her,  and  said  that  he 
would  think  it  over.  After  she  had 
gone  he  opened  the  drawer  of  his 
writing  table,  and  tumbled  his  man- 
uscript  into  it.  Evidently  the  time 
for  quiet  work  had  not  yet  come. 
He  drew  a  letter  from  his  pocket 
and  re-read  it.  He  had  received  it 
that  morning  and  had  not  given  the 
contents  a  moment's  thought,  but 
now  it  presented  itself  to  his  mind  as 
of  possible  importance.  It  was  from 
his  cousin,  Dick  Boynton,  in  Boston, 
and  was  chiefly  about  his  new  yacht, 
Lilith,  and  the  cruises  that  he  was 
intending  to  take  during  the  sum- 
mer. It  closed  in  this  way  :  "  I  wish 
that  you  and  Bessie  would  come  over 
and  go  with  me.  What  do  you  say  ? 
Will  you  come  ?  " 

Dr.  Markham  lived  only  a  few 
doors  from  Jack's  house,  and  he  went 
in  to  talk  the  matter  over  with  him. 
Afterward  he  went  on  to  see  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Morris  about  it.  The  re- 


"GO     FORTH     AND     FIND.         205 

suit  was  that  the  next  morning  he  ap- 
peared in  Bessie's  room  with  a  fully 
matured  plan  which  he  proceeded  to 
lay  before  her.  He  saw  with  satis- 
faction that  there  seemed  to  be  more 
light  in  her  eyes  and  more  ring  in 
her  voice  after  he  had  discussed  the 
plan  with  her.  He  said  that  they 
would  go  to  Boston,  to  his  old  home, 
where  at  present  his  sister  was  liv- 
ing. They  would  stay  there  as  long 
as  they  enjoyed  it,  and,  if  Bessie 
wished  to,  they  could  go  over  to 
England  with  Dick  in  the  yacht,  or, 
if  she  preferred,  they  could  go  over 
on  a  steamer.  They  would  spend 
the  summer  wandering  about  wher- 
ever they  pleased,  and  then,  when 
they  were  settled  in  Florence  for  the 
winter,  Mrs.  Morris  would  bring 
Bertie,  who  had  been  with  her  during 
Bessie's  illness,  over  to  them. 

After  he  had  talked  for  some  time 
he  put  into  her  hand  a  note  which 
Mr.  Morris  had  given  him  for  her 
the  night  before,  and  said  : 

"  How  do  you  like  this  new  scheme, 
darling?" 

"  I  like  it  very  much,  dear  Jack," 

•-*' 

'.     •   .  ' 


206      "GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

she  said,  and  when  she  took  from  the 
envelope  a  check  for  five  thousand 
dollars,  she  added  : 

"  It  will  certainly  be  very  wicked 
in  me  if  I  do  not  get  strong,  you  are 
all  so  good  to  me." 

Bessie  had  never  been  in  Boston  to 
stay  for  any  length  of  time.  When 
she  was  a  little  girl  she  had  spent 
two  weeks  there  sight-seeing,  but 
Jack  always  spoke  with  utter  scorn 
of  the  Boston  which  she  knew,  and 
looked  forward  with  great  anticipa- 
tions of  pleasure  to  showing  her  the 
Boston  of  his  early  life,  the  Boston 
which  is  made  by  the  people  of  his 
own  exclusive  set.  He  was  not  dis- 
appointed. His  old  friends  were 
very  glad  to  welcome  him  back,  and 
were  very  cordial  to  his  little  wife. 
Indeed,  Bessie's  gay,  frank  nature 
and  sweet  face  won  her  hosts  of 
friends  at  once,  and  she  was  so 
happy  in  the  lovely  old  home  where 
Jack  had  been  born  that  she  would 
have  been  quite  contented  to  have 
stayed  there  all  summer. 

However,  the  absorbing  topic  of 
the  family  conversation  was  the  new 


"GO     FORTH     AND     FIND.         207 

yacht,  the  beautiful  Lilith,  with  its 
long,  slender  body  of  white  and  gold, 
and  high,  pointed  bows  which  bore 
the  figure  of  Lilith,  with  mysterious 
gray-green  eyes  and  long  braids  of 
golden  hair.  Dick  could  think  of 
nothing  but  the  voyage  which  he  had 
planned,  and  it  was  evident  that  he 
had  set  his  heart  on  having  Jack  and 
Bessie  go  with  him.  Bessie  hoped 
that  something  would  happen  to  keep 
them  in  Boston,  but  one  day  Dick 
took  her  out  to  the  yacht  and  showed 
her  the  stateroom  which  he  had  had 
fitted  up  for  her  with  a  hanging  bed 
and  every  possible  comfort,  so  when 
the  day  came  for  the  decision  to  be 
made  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  to 
yield  as  gracefully  as  possible.  The 
truth  was  that  the  sea  was  terrible  to 
Bessie,  and  she  told  Jack  that  the 
old  Roman  had  expressed  her  senti- 
ments when  he  said,  "  Praise  the  sea 
and  remain  on  the  shore,"  but  she 
conquered  these  feelings,  and  the 
fact  that  she  could  and  did  give  a 
smiling  consent  to  cross  the  wild  At- 
lantic in  the  little  pleasure  boat  was 
good  evidence  that  her  nerves  were 


208      "  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

well  toned  up  and  that  she  once  more 
held  the  guiding  reins. 

The  trip  across  was  charming.  The 
party  consisted  of  Dick  and  his  wife 
and  her  sister,  Margaret  Whitwell,  a 
pretty  tgirl  with  a  gay  light  heart  ; 
two  of  Dick's  friends  who  had  just 
graduated  at  the  Law  S.chool  in  Cam- 
bridge, and  who  were  intending  to 
take  a  walking  trip  somewhere  in 
England,  and  Jack  and  his  wife.  It 
was  a  very  congenial  crowd,  with 
just  enough  variety  to  give  life  with- 
out destroying  rest,  and  no  one  could 
have  planned  a  pleasanter  way  to 
cross  the  ocean.  When  they  arrived 
at  Southampton  they  left  the  yacht 
and  went  up  to  London  for  a  week 
or  two.  Here  they  found  Mrs.  Stan- 
ton,  Helen's  Aunt  Charlotte,  whom 
Bessie  had  always  called  Aunt,  living 
in  pleasant  apartments.  She  imme- 
diately invited  Bessie  to  stay  with 
her,  and,  as  she  had  for  many  years 
spent  some  months  of  each  year  in 
London,  she  was  a  most  delightful 
as  well  as  a  very  useful  chaperon. 
Bessie  was  now  quite  well  again  and 
enjoyed  to  the  fullest  extent  their 


"GO     FORTH     AND     FIND.         209 

rambles  about  the  city,  to  its  thou- 
sand familiar  though  hitherto  unseen 
places  of  interest. 

Dick  was  preparing  the  yacht  for 
a  run  up  around  the  Skelligs,  and  it 
was  within  a  day  or  two  of  the  time 
for  sailing  when  Jack  came  in  bring- 
ing with  him  a  lady. 

"  Bessie,"  he  said,  "  this  is  Mrs. 
Warburton,  Ned's  cousin  Edith,  of 
whom  you  have  so  often  heard  us 
speak.  I  met  her  just  now,  and  as  I 
told  her  that  we  were  leaving  very 
soon  she  came  with  me  at  once  to 
see  you." 

Bessie  was  delighted  to  meet  Mrs. 
Warburton,  who  was  a  lovely  speci- 
men of  a  really  well-bred  English- 
woman. Her  frank  cordiality  won 
Bessie's  heart,  and  when  she  urgently 
invited  her  to  visit  her  in  her  home 
in  Epping,  Bessie  was  doubly  glad  to 
accept.  She  said  to  Jack  : 

"  If  you  will  not  mind  going  with- 
out me  on  this  cruise,  it  will  be  very 
much  pleasanter  for  me  to  go  down 
to  the  country  for  a  little  while,  and 
then  I  can  stay  with  Aunt  Charlotte 
until  you  come  back.  You  know 


210      "GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

that  I  do  not  really  enjoy  being  on 
the  yacht." 

A  new  idea  had  come  into  Bessie's 
mind.  Her  heart  did  not  at  any 
time  forget  the  dear  friends  who  had 
made  so  great  a  part  of  their  life 
during  the  past  summer,  but  she  had 
not  thought  much  about  them  lately. 
Now,  this  meeting  with  Ned's  cousin 
brought  back  very  vividly  the  old 
feelings,  and  she  determined  to  find 
out  all  about  Alice  from  Mrs.  War- 
burton,  and  possibly  to  go  to  see  her. 
The  next  day  Mrs.  Warburton  came 
for  her  and  took  her,  through  the 
loveliest  country  which  Bessie  had 
ever  seen,  to  her  home  near  Epping 
Forest.  Before  starting  she  had 
easily  obtained  her  Aunt  Charlotte's 
consent  to  go  up  with  her  into  Scot- 
land for  the  latter  part  of  Jack's 
absence,  and  so  had  accepted  Mrs. 
Warburton's  invitation  for  two  weeks. 
Our  story  has  nothing  to  do  with  the 
details  of  this  visit,  which  was  full 
of  pleasure  for  Bessie.  During  her 
stay  she  had  many  talks  with  her 
hostess  about  Ned.  She  did  not  tell 
her  about  Helen,  but  only  talked  of 


"GO     FORTH     AND     FIND.         211 

the  pleasure  they  had  had  together 
at  El  Ermita.  She  told  Mrs.  War- 
burton  how  dear  he  was  to  Jack  and 
to  her,  and  so  led  her  on  to  speak  of 
the  summer  they  had  spent  with  him 
in  Scotland,  and  of  Alice. 

"  She  was  a  shy  little  thing ; 
Marion  and  I  were  really  fond  of 
her.  We  had  even  thought  that 
some  time  we  would  ask  her  to  Lon- 
don for  a  week.  No,  I  do  not  think 
that  it  could  have  been  her  fault 
exactly,  but  it  was  just  as  bad  for 
Ned  as  if  it  had  been.  We  were 
very  unhappy  about  it,  and  father 
said  it  served  us  all  right  for  going 
among  those  canting  Presbyterians, 
as  he  called  them.  Poor  Ned  !  I  do 
wish  that  I  knew  what  has  become 
of  him." 

"  Have  you  any  idea  what  has 
become  of  her  ?  "  Bessie  asked. 

"  No,  I  have  never  thought  any- 
thing about  that,"  Mrs.  Warburton 
answered  ;  "  I  suppose  that  she  lives 
there  still  with  her  father." 

"  Can  you  give  me  the  exact  ad- 
dress ? "  Bessie  asked,  and  while  she 
wrote  it  down  on  her  tablets  she  said  : 


212 

"  If  I  come  across  her  while  I  am  in 
Scotland,  I  will  let  you  know  what 
she  is  like.  Poor  child,  it  seems 
very  sad  to  me  that  she  should 
have  nothing  to  look  forward  to  in 
life." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Warburton 
thoughtfully  ;  "  it  certainly  is  very 
sad,  and  if  I  could  get  away  from 
home  I  think  that  I  would  go  up 
with  you  and  find  her.  I  am  sorry 
that  the  idea  never  occurred  to  me 
before." 

"Well,"  said  Bessie,  smiling,  "I 
will  bring  you  back  a  report.  You 
know  she  is  your  cousin.  You  might 
be  very  fond  of  her." 

14  That  is  possible,"  said  Mrs.  War- 
burton. 

A  month  later  Mrs.  Stanton  and 
Bessie  were  settled  in  quiet  apart- 
ments in  Edinburgh.  Their  windows 
looked  out  over  the  lovely  country 
and  away  tothePentland  Hills.  They 
had  been  up  to  Inverness,  through 
Perth  and  Stirling,  and  now  had 
come  to  Edinburgh  to  rest.  Bessie 
had  not  had  the  courage  to  go  up  to 
Alice's  home  to  see  her.  She  did 


"GO     FORTH     AND     FIND."      213 

not  feel  sure  of  a  welcome  if  she  did 
go,  and  she  did  not  wish  to  see  Mr. 
Graham.     After  much  thought   she 
decided  to  write  to  her.     First  she 
tried  to  realize  what  kind  of  a  per- 
son she  was  likely  to  be.      Of  one 
thing  she  felt  certain — that  Alice  had 
loved  Ned.     She  knew  that  the  ad- 
vent of  this  wonderful  stranger  into 
her  uneventful  life  must  have  been 
like  the  coming  of  Lohengrin  to  Elsa, 
and  that  she  must  have  loved  him. 
She  tried  to  bring  the  probable  Alice 
before  her  mind,  and  to  imagine  what 
had  been  the  effect  of  this  long  dreary 
silence  following  the  strange,  forced 
marriage.     She  thought  that  it  had 
been  to  make  her  grow  hard,  perhaps 
bitter,  that   she  was  probably  very 
conscientious,  very  prim    and  stiff. 
She  determined  that  she  would  not 
be  influenced  by  any  of  these  things, 
but  would  do  her  best  to  like  her, 
even  to  be  fond  of  her.     Ned  was 
gone,  no  one  knew  where,  but  that 
was  no  reason  for  not  trying  to  do 
what   was   possible   for  Alice ;   and 
indeed,  the  idea  having  come  into 
Bessie's  head,   it  was  necessary  for 


214      "  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

her  own  peace  of  mind  that  she 
should  try.  She  sat  down  and  wrote 
a  kind,  frank  letter  ;  told  Alice  that 
Ned  was  her  husband's  oldest  and 
dearest  friend,  that  he  had  spent  the 
summer  with  them  in  California,  that 
she  had  then  heard  for  the  first  time 
the  story  of  the  sad,  forced  marriage, 
so  hard  for  both  of  them  ;  that  now 
being  in  Scotland  for  a  few  weeks, 
she  wished  very  much  to  see  her,  and 
ended  by  asking  Alice  if  she  could 
suggest  any  way  in  which  they  might 
meet. 

It  was  a  warm  day  in  August. 
Bessie  had  been  for  a  long  walk  with 
her  aunt  in  the  morning,  and  she  had 
thrown  herself  down  on  the  bed  and 
gone  to  sleep.  The  windows  and 
the  door,  opening  Into  Mrs.  Stanton's 
room,  stood  open  to  let  the  soft 
delicious  air  stir  through  the  rooms. 
Bessie's  sleep  was  light,  and  pres- 
ently there  mingled  with  her  dreams 
the  sound  of  a  low,  sweet  voice,  so 
musical  that  it  did  not  rouse  her,  but 
wove  itself  into  her  sleep.  Suddenly 
she  heard  Mrs.  Stanton  say: 

"  Who  shall  I  say  called  ?  " 


"GO     FORTH     AND     FIND.         215 

The  sweet  voice  said,  "  Tell  her 
Alice — Mrs.  Harlow." 

In  an  instant  Bessie  was  off  from 
the  bed,  standing  in  the  open  door, 
her  eyes  wide  open.  She  had  pic- 
tured Alice  many  times  to  herself, 
and  in  many  forms,  but  never,  never 
anything  like  this.  A  slight  girlish 
figure  in  a  gray  cheviot  gown,  not 
too  well-fitting,  pale,  gold -brown 
hair,  which  the  wind  had  blown  back 
from  a  fair  forehead  in  which  the 
blue  veins  were  plainly  traced.  In 
her  hands  she  held  a  large  bunch  of 
harebells,  and  a  smaller  bouquet  of 
the  same  flowers  was  pinned  to  her 
dress.  All  these  details  impressed 
themselves  upon  Bessie,  while  she 
was  looking  into  the  most  wonderful 
eyes  that  she  had  ever  seen.  It  was 
not  that  they  were  so  large,  not  that 
they  were  as  blue  as  the  waters  of 
her  own  Scotch  lakes,  but  that  they 
were  so  full  of  expectancy.  They 
seemed  to  say  to  Bessie,  "  You  have 
come  at  last;  oh  !  why  have  you  been 
so  long  ?  " 

The  glad  welcome  in  them,  with 
its  faint  reproach,  went  straight  to 


2l6      "GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

Bessie's  heart.  She  rushed  forward 
and  folded  her  arms  around  her, 
saying  : 

"  O  Alice  !  I  am  so  glad  to  see 
you." 

There  were  no  preliminaries  to  the 
friendship  that  sprang,  full  grown, 
into  being  between  these  two  girls. 
Alice  explained  that  she  was  living 
in  Edinburgh  with  her  aunt,  and 
had  come  at  once  upon  receiving 
Bessie's  letter,  which  her  father  had 
forwarded  to  her. 

Mrs.  Stanton  and  Bessie  stayed 
for  two  weeks  longer  in  Edinburgh, 
seeing  Alice  constantly.  Gradually 
Bessie  learned  the  story  of  the  years 
that  had  passed  ;  how,  after  the  first 
prostration  that  followed  her  mar- 
riage and  desertion,  she  had  roused 
herself,  and,  remembering  that  she 
was  Ned's  wife,  had  determined  that 
he  should  find  her  all  he  would  like 
her  to  be  when  he  should  come  for 
her.  She  had  watched  his  cousins 
during  the  week  of  their  stay  at  the 
Manse,  and,  seeing  that  he  liked 
Edith  best,  had  formed  herself  on  all 
that  she  could  remember  of  her.  She 


GO     FORTH     AND     FIND.         217 


always  wore  harebells  when  they  were 
in  bloom,  because  Edith  had  loved 
them  and  worn  them.  After  Ned  had 
been  gone  for  about  six  months,  she 
told  her  father  that  she  wished  to  go 
to  Edinburgh  to  study  and  to  live  with 
people  who  knew  the  outside  world. 
At  first  her  father  refused,  but  she 
brought  the  firmness  which  she  had 
inherited  from  him  to  bear,  and  told 
him  that  he  had  made  her  Ned's  wife 
in  spite  of  both  of  them,  and  that  now 
she  must  and  would  fit  herself  for 
her  place  in  life.  She  was  right  and 
finally  prevailed.  Her  father  ar- 
ranged that  she  should  live  with  her 
mother's  sister  in  Edinburgh.  Here 
she  had  been  ever  since,  working, 
reading  (Bessie  was  amazed  to  find 
how  well  she  knew  the  American 
writers,  and  how  she  had  studied 
everything  pertaining  to  her  hus- 
band's home),  and  waiting. 

That  was  the  strangest  part  of  it  ; 
she  had  waited  for  Ned  to  come  back 
for  her,  with  never  one  thought  that 
he  would  not  come,  and  as  to  Jacob, 
when  he  served  for  Laban's  daughter, 
so  also  to  her  the  time  had  not 


2l8      "GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

seemed  long  because  of  the  love  she 
had  for  him.  Now  it  was  sweet  to 
her  to  be  with  Bessie,  because  it 
seemed  to  bring  her  at  once  into 
Ned's  world.  She  was  never  tired 
of  asking  shy  questions  which  would 
lead  Bessie  to  talk  of  the  life  at  El 
Ermita,  when  Ned  was  with  them, 
and  while  she  listened  the  soft,  sweet 
color  came  and  went  in  her  fair 
cheeks,  and  her  eyes  shone  with  such 
a  happy  light  that  Bessie  had  to  turn 
her  head  away  to  hide  the  tears  that 
gathered  in  her  eyes,  knowing  what 
she  knew.  No  smallest  doubt,  how- 
ever, came  to  the  faithful  maiden 
heart  of  the  waiting  wife. 


XIX. 

(UMMER  and  winter  had 
passed  away,  and  early  in 
June  the  weird  and  mystic 
eyes  of  the  green  and  gold 
Lilith  were  gazing  out  over 
the  fair  waters  of  the  Bay  of  Naples, 
while  the  soft  sea  breezes  played  with 
the  lovely  Stars  and  Stripes  that 
floated  at  her  masthead.  On  board, 
besides  the  Boyntons  and  Winthrops, 
were  Mrs.  Morris  and  Bertie,  Fred 
Morris  (Bessie's  brother),  Mrs.  War- 
burton,  and  Alice.  Alice  had  spent 
several  months  of  the  winter  with 
the  Winthrops  in  Florence  and  had 
there  met  Edith  again.  They  were 
all  with  one  accord  devoted  to  Alice, 
and  it  was  quite  as  a  matter  of  course 
that  every  man  who  came  under  her 
influence  at  once  surrendered  to  her 
sway.  Jack  and  Bessie  often  won- 


220      "  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

dered  why  it  was  that  old  and  young, 
grave  and  gay,  all  alike  yielded  her 
homage.  They  concluded  that  it 
was  this  :  her  own  life  was  abso- 
lutely single  ;  it  had  but  one  interest, 
her  love  for  Ned,  and  this  very  love 
vivified  her  whole  nature.  She  was 
devoted  to  all  around  her.  She  met 
each  one  who  came  into  her  life  with 
glad  helpful  interest  which  was  at 
the  same  time  utterly  without  selfish- 
ness, because  she  looked  upon  her- 
self as  set  apart  and  sacred.  So  it 
was  that  one  and  all  coming  into 
her  sweet  presence,  and  feeling  upon 
himself  the  influence  of  this  intense 
life,  at  first  desired  to  possess  it  and 
make  it  his  own  ;  but  each  one 
soon  learned  that  it  was  permitted 
to  all  to  sit  in  the  light,  but  to  none 
to  appropriate  it. 

Once  during  the  winter  a  rumor  of 
Ned  had  reached  them.  It  came 
through  his  Boston  banker,  who  had 
received  a  draft  from  Irkutsk.  That 
was  all.  Jack  wrote  to  him,  sending 
the  letter  to  a  banker  in  Irkutsk,  urg- 
ing him  to  meet  them  and  go  back 
to  America  with  them  in  the  spring. 


"GO     FORTH     AND     FIND.         221 

After  wandering  about  for  many 
months  the  letter  was  returned  to 
Jack.  Of  course  they  did  not  tell 
Alice,  but  both  Jack  and  Bessie  lost 
all  hope,  and  sometimes  Bessie,  when 
she  saw  her  brother  watching  Alice 
with  a  wistful  look  in  his  eyes,  would 
for  a  moment  wish  that  she  could  be 
free  and  know  that  she  was  so.  The 
next  instant  she  would  realize  that 
Alice  and  her  love  were  one  and 
inseparable. 

Alice  had  intended  to  go  back  to 
Edinburgh  early  in  the  spring,  but 
when  Bessie  saw  the  clouds  that 
gathered  in  her  eyes  at  any  mention 
of  leaving  them  she  would  not  hear 
of  it,  so  now  they  were  all  together 
on  the  yacht  cruising  about  wherever 
fancy  took  them  on  the  lovely  Medi- 
terranean. For  a  week  or  two  they 
had  been  in  the  Bay  of  Naples  and 
at  night  had  dropped  their  anchor 
near  the  American  man-of-war,  New 
York.  The  officers  of  the  cruiser 
came,  one  or  two  at  a  time,  to  visit 
them,  adding  that  cheerful  variety 
and  charm  to  their  life  which  only 
naval  officers  know  how  to  give.  As 


222      "  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

one  after  another  of  them,  as  soon  as 
he  went  off  duty,  came  over  to  the 
side  of  the  great  ship  and  out  to  the 
little  American  yacht,  all  on  board 
knew  that  Alice,  with  her  pale 
Northern  beauty  and  mysterious 
charm,  was  the  loadstone  that 
attracted  them. 

One  warm  night,  the  moon  being 
in  its  second  quarter,  they  ran  out 
toward  Capri,  Lieutenant  Rainy  was 
on  board,  and  he  and  Fred  Morris 
were  vying  with  each  other  in  enter- 
taining the  party.  Gay  songs,  sung 
with  the  guitar  and  banjo,  and  merry 
stories  carefully  saved  up  for  such 
occasions,  followed  each  other.  Alice 
was  unusually  quiet  ;  several  times 
Bessie  asked  her  if  she  were  not  well. 
She  smiled  and  answered  : 

"  Yes,  quite  well." 

Then  she  leaned  back  and  looked 
out  over  the  sea  with  longing  eyes. 
They  had  turned  and  were  going 
back  to  Naples  ;  the  moon  had  set, 
and  the  great  stars  shone  with  mys- 
terious splendor.  For  a  moment  the 
sounds  of  laughter  and  singing  had 
ceased,  and  a  little  felucca  with  its 


"GO     FORTH     AND     FIND."      223 


red-brown  slanting  sails  looking 
almost  black  against  the  night  sky, 
passed  them,  outward  bound.  Lean- 
ing  back  against  a  coil  of  ropes  lay  a 
man  with  his  face  turned  up  to  the 
sky,  and  both  hands  clasped  under 
his  head,  singing  : 

"  Addio,  mia  bella  Napoli,  addio,  addio, 
La  tua  soave  immagine  chi  mai,  chi    mai 
scordar  potra." 

Three  hearts  answered  with  sud- 
den thrill  the  sound  of  that  voice. 
Bessie  turned  toward  Alice ;  her 
head  had  fallen  back  on  to  the  cush- 
ions, her  hands  lay  lifeless  in  her  lap. 
She  had  fainted.  Jack  sprang  to  the 
railing  and  shouted:  "  Felucca  ahoy  ! 
Ned,  Ned  !  " 

But  the  wind  bore  his  voice  away 
as  it  brought  to  them  more  and  more 
faintly  : 

"Addio,  care  memorie  del  tempo,  ah  !  che 
fuggi  !  " 

"  O  Jack  !  what  shall  we  do  ? 
what  can  we  do  ?  " 

Bessie  stood  on  the  deck  beside 
Jack,  wringing  her  hands  while  the 


224      "GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

tears  rolled  down  her  cheeks.  "  I 
simply  cannot  endure  it,  I  cannot. 
You  must  find  Ned  some  way." 

"  Yes,  Bessie,  I  will  find  him.  I 
will  go  ashore  at  once,  and  I  do  not 
doubt  that  I  can  find  where  he  has 
been  and  probably  where  he  is  going. 
I  will  be  quick  on  his  heels.  But, 
Bessie,  what  am  I  to  say  to  him  when 
I  have  found  him  ?  That  is  the 
question." 

"  I  wish  that  he  could  see  her 
without  knowing  who  she  is,"  said 
Bessie  ;  "  but  she  would  not  consent. 
Just  tell  him  to  go  back  to  America 
with  us.  We  will  find  some  way  to 
arrange  it  if  once  we  have  him  here." 


XX. 

WEEK  later  Bessie  re- 
ceived a  letter  from  Jack 
dated  at  Rome,  which  ran 
as  follows  :  "  I  spent  last 
night  with  Ned.  We  had 
a~long  talk,  which  lasted  until  this 
morning.  He  has  spent  a  year  in 
Russia,  has  been  up  into  Siberia, 
and  has  seen  Tolstoi  in  his  peasant 
home.  He  has  grown  very  grave 
and  earnest,  and  looks  at  life  from 
a  new  standpoint.  He  considers 
that  a  man  earns  the  right  to  live  by 
making  his  life  of  use  to  his  fellow- 
creatures,  and  in  no  other  way.  He 
is  now  on  his  way  to  America,  and 
I  infer  that  he  intends  to  take  a 
hand  in  the  political  work  of  our  own 
country,  which  he  seems  to  think  in 
great  need  of  strong  workers.  Of 
one  thing  T  am  quite  sure  :  he  is 


226      "GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

heart  whole.  He  spoke  of  Helen 
without  a  sign  of  any  feeling  except 
friendly  interest  in  her  work.  Indeed, 
he  seems  only  to  wish  to  know  if 
people  are  doing  anything  that  is 
worth  doing.  He  consented  gladly 
to  my  proposition  that  he  should 
cross  with  us,  and  will  come  with  me 
to  Naples  in  a  day  or  two.  I  thought 
it  only  kind  to  wait  for  him,  and  I 
cannot  tell  you  just  when  you  may 
expect  to  see  us,  but  it  will  be  soon. 
He  sends  his  love  to  you  and  is  glad 
that  he  is  going  to  see  you.  I  have 
not  yet  spoken  to  him  of  Alice." 

The  more  Jack  talked  to  Ned,  the 
more  profound  and  radical  seemed 
the  change  which  had  taken  place  in 
him.  He  was  very  cheerful,  even 
gay,  but  it  was  evident  that  the  point 
of  view  was  changed.  Instead  of 
looking  constantly  at  his  own  life  and 
its  disappointments  he  was  now  ab- 
sorbingly interested  in  others,  and 
the  problem  in  his  own  mind  was  no 
longer :  How  shall  I  be  happy,  but 
where  shall  I  lend  a  hand  ?  In  one 
of  his  talks  with  Jack  he  expressed 
himself  in  this  way  : 


"  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND."     227 

"  I  have  been  where  I  have  seen 
human  beings  stripped  of  that  con- 
ventional covering  which  prevents 
all  revelation  of  true  life.  I  assure 
you  I  have  been  appalled  to  see  and 
feel  how  all  the  great  human  heart 
is  quivering  with  pain  and  anguish 
under  wrongs  which  we  do  not  think 
of.  We  are  used  to  them,  but  all 
the  same  they  are  crushing  genera- 
tion after  generation  of  our  kindred 
men,  and  I  do  not  mind  telling  you, 
Jack,  that  putting  myself  side  by  side 
with  a  Russian  peasant,  I  have  been 
very  much  ashamed  of  my  life." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  you  are  a  com- 
munist?" asked  Jack. 

"  No,  not  exactly,"  said  Ned  ;  "but 
I  have  learned  to  look  at  myself  from 
the  standpoint  of  a  communist,  and 
with  his  eyes,  and  I  confess  that  I 
cannot  blame  him  when  he  sees  no 
excuse  for  my  life." 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  about 
it,  Ned?" 

"  I  am  going  back  to  my  own 
country,  to  the  place  where  I  was 
born,  and  I  am  going  to  give  what  I 
am  and  what  I  have  to  her.  I  tell 


228 

you,  Jack,  that  I  do  not  think  any 
country  needs  the  help  of  her  own  chil- 
dren much  more  than  our  own  does 
just  at  present,  and  it  seems  to  me  that 
every  true  American  ought  to  be  on 
deck  and  ready.  That  is  what  I  am 
going  to  do,  and  I  do  not  fear  but 
that  I  will  find  work,  and  plenty  of  it 
too.  I  hope  so,  because  I  must  re- 
deem the  time  that  I  have  thrown 
away." 

After  this  it  was  with  a  fair  degree 
of  courage,  mingled  with  much  hes- 
itation, that,  the  night  before  they 
were  to  leave  for  Naples,  Jack  sat 
down  opposite  to  Ned,  and,  leaning 
his  elbows  on  the  table  and  his  head 
on  his  hand,  looked  seriously  at  him 
and  said  : 

"  Ned,  I  hate  to  be  always  inter- 
fering in  your  affairs,  but  before  we 
go  to  Naples,  there  is  something  that 
I  must  tell  you." 

Then  he  told  him  that  Alice  was 
with  them  and  gave  him  a  brief  ac- 
count of  their  friendship  for  her. 
He  ended  with  these  words: 

"  She  does  not  know  that  I  have 
found  you,  nor,  indeed,  that  I  have 


GO    FORTH    AND    FIND.  229 


come  to  look  for  you,  and  she  need 
never  know.  She  expects  to  go  with 
Mrs.  Warburton  to  London  for  a 
little  while,  when  we  leave,  and  then 
back  to  her  aunt  in  Edinburgh.  So 
you  see  you  are  perfectly  free  to 
do  as  you  think  best.  You  have 
only  to  join  us  at  Southampton  in- 
stead of  Naples,but,"he  added  slowly, 
'*  Bessie  and  I  both  wish  that  you 
would  come  now." 

Ned  had  not  moved  his  eyes  from 
Jack  during  the  whole  recital.  Now 
he  remained  silent  for  some  time  and 
then  said  : 

"  I  will  go  with  you  now,  Jack." 

The  party  on  board  the  Lilith 
were  just  gathering  in  the  pretty  sa- 
loon for  coffee  in  the  morning,  when 
they  heard  the  sound  of  a  boat  along- 
side, and  the  tramp  of  men  overhead  ; 
Jack  entered  followed  by  Ned.  Bes- 
sie had  told  Edith  and  they  were 
both  nervous.  Indeed,  everyone 
was  more  or  less  embarrassed  in 
the  useless  and  unnecessary  way 
that  outsiders  are  apt  to  be.  Ned 
took  no  notice  of  the  outstretched 


230      "  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 


hands  and  officious  greetings  of  his 
friends,  but  stood  in  the  doorway 
looking  at  Alice  ;  the  questioning  in 
his  face  yielding  to  wonder,  then  to 
something  almost  like  fear. 

She  was  standing  where  the  light 
shone  on  her  pale  gold  hair  ;  the  dark 
blue  yachting  gown  which  she  wore 
made  her  delicate  beauty  seem  more 
flower-like  than  ever.  The  first 
moment  that  she  saw  him,  her 
cheeks  paled  a  little,  then  the  color 
came  slowly  and  sweetly  back  while 
she  gazed  straight  into  his  with  her 
own  unfathomable  eyes  of  blue. 

Memory  started  back  dismayed. 
What  was  this  before  him  ?  Surely 
not  Alice.  Then  suddenly  a  little 
movement  of  her  head  seemed  to  fix 
the  identity.  He  did  not  speak  or 
move,  for  beautiful  and  gentle  as  she 
looked  there  was  something  in  the 
pose  of  her  head  and  in  her  face 
which  plainly  bade  him  not  to  pre- 
sume. She  was  indeed  "  fair  as  the 
moon,  bright  as  the  sun,"  but  also 
"  terrible  as  an  army  with  banners." 

Presently  about  her  mouth  there 
quivered  the  faint  dawn  of  a  smile ; 


"GO    FORTH    AND    FIND."        231 

she  came  forward  and  put  her  hand 
into  his.  He  bowed  low  as  he  took 
it,  saying : 

"  I  hope  that  you  are  quite  well." 
The  spell  was  broken.  In  a 
moment,  over  all  the  tragedy  of  the 
past  and  the  future,  over  all  the 
tears  and  heartaches  that  had  been 
and  were  still  to  be,  kind  conven- 
tionality had  thrown  her  veil,  and 
everything  moved  on  quietly  as  is 
fitting  among  well-bred  people. 
Edith  monopolized  Ned,  asking 
questions  about  his  sojourn  in 
Russia,  and  giving  him  news  of  the 
various  members  of  their  family. 
He  became  at  once  an  accepted 
member  of  the  party,  joined  in  all 
their  excursions,  and  made  himself 
agreeable  to  each  one  in  his  old 
charming  way.  Of  course  Alice  and 
he  were  constantly  in  each  other's 
presence,  but  they  were  never  alone 
together,  never  seemed  to  seek  each 
other,  and  no  one  made  any  allusion 
to  the  relation  between  them. 

One  night  they  were  all  scattered 
in  groups  about  the  deck  enjoying 
the  cool  evening  breeze.  Jack  and 


232        "  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND." 

Ned  were  lying  out  toward  the  bows 
talking  politics  while  they  smoked. 
The  water  was  wonderfully  calm ; 
the  reflections  were  perfect.  Above, 
in  the  starlit  sky,  stretched  the  huge 
form  of  Vesuvius,  a  faint  line,  more 
like  bright  smoke  than  flame,  drifting 
slowly  southward  from  its  summit. 
Alice  leaned  over  the  rail  and  looked 
at  the  reflection  in  the  blue  water. 
There  was  a  very  sad,  wistful  look  in 
her  sweet  eyes  and  about  the  corners 
of  her  sensitive  mouth.  Lieutenant 
Rainy  had  been  trying  to  amuse  her, 
but  now  for  some  time  had  been 
simply  watching  her,  at  first  think- 
ing only  how  exquisite  and  dear  she 
was,  then  slowly  beginning  to  appre- 
ciate that  she  was  sad  and  troubled. 
When  the  silence  had  lasted  long 
enough  to  attract  her  attention  she 
turned  toward  him. 

"  How  beautiful  it  is,"  she  said. 
"  There  is  something  very  wonder- 
ful about  these  nights  ;  they  seem 
so  old  to  me,  as  if  they  were  the 
same  nights  that  had  been  here  for 
ages." 

"  That  is  a  curious  idea,"  he  an- 


"  GO    FORTH    AND    FIND."        233 

swered,  "  but  does  it  not  seem  strange 
that  of  all  the  poets  and  painters  who 
have  seen  them,  not  one  has  ever 
been  able  to  put  on  paper  or  can- 
vas any  adequate  idea  of  them.  I 
do  not  think  that  anyone  has  ever 
described,  really,  a  beautiful  night 
or  day,  a  sunset  or  dawn,  do  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  do  ;  and  one  of  your 
American  poets,  too." 

"  What  is  this  ?  "  he  said,  laughing  ; 
"  an  English  girl  talking  of  American 
poets  !  You  know  we  do  not  expect 
you  to  know  that  there  are  any  Amer- 
ican poets.  I  am  sure  it  is  very  good 
of  you." 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  she  answered. 
"  I  think  that  there  are  many  true 
poets  in  America,  but  this  one, 
Sidney  Lanier,  everyone  must  love. 
Do  you  remember  his  *  Dawn '  ? 
Listen." 

Then  in  a  voice  whose  musical  ca- 
dence was  like  a  caress,  she  recited  : 

' '  The  tide's  at  full  :  the  marsh  with  flooded 

streams 

Glimmers,  a  limpid  labyrinth  of  dreams. 
Each  winding  creek  in  grave  entrancement 
lies 


234      "  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

A  rhapsody  of  morning  stars.     The  skies 
Shine  scant  with  one  forked  galaxy, — 
The  marsh  brags  ten  :  looped  on  his  breast 
they  lie. 

"  Oh,  what  if  a  sound  should  be  made  ! 
Oh,  what  if  a  bound  should  be  laid 
To  this  bow-and-string  tension  of  beauty 

and  silence  a- spring 
To  the  bend  of  beauty  the  bow,  or  the 

hold  of  silence  the  string  ! 
I  fear  me,  I  fear  me  yon  dome  of  diapha- 
nous gleam 
Will  break  as   a  bubble  o'er-blown    in   a 

dream, — 
Yon  dome  of  too  tenuous  tissues  of  space 

and  of  night, 
Over-weighted  with    stars,  over-freighted 

with  light, 
Over-sated  with   beauty  and  silence,  will 

seem 

But  a  bubble  that  broke  in  a  dream, 
If  a  bound  of  degree  to  this  grace  be  laid, 
Or  a  sound  or  a  motion  made. 

"  But,  no  !  it  is  made  :  list !  somewhere, — 
mystery,  where? 

In  the  leaves  ?  in  the  air  ? 

In  my  heart  ?  is  a  motion  made  : 

'Tis  a  motion  of  dawn,  like  a  flicker  of 
light  on  shade. 

In  the  leaves  'tis  palpable  :  low  multitudi- 
nous stirring 

Upwinds  through  the  woods ;  the  little 
ones,  softly  conferring, 


GO     FORTH     AND     FIND.         235 


Have  settled  my  lord's  to  be  looked  for ;  so 

they  are  still  ; 
But  the  air  and  my  heart  and  the  earth  are 

a-thrill,— 
And  look  where  the  wild   duck  sails  round 

the  bend  of  the  river, — 
And  look  where  a  passionate  shiver 
Expectant  is  bending  the  blades 
Of  the  marsh-grass  in   serial   shimmers  and 

shades, — 
And  invisible  wings,  fast  fleeting,  fast  fleeting, 

Are  beating 
The  dark  overhead  as  my  heart  beats, — and 

steady  and  free 

Is  the  ebb-tide  flowing  from  marsh  to  sea 
(Run  home  little  streams 
With  your  lapfuls  of  stars  and  dreams), — 
And  a  sailor  unseen  is  hoisting  a-peak, 
For  list,  down  the  inshore  curve  of  the  creek 

How  merrily  flutters  the  sail, — 
And  lo,  in  the  East  !     Will  the  East  unveil  ? 
The  East  is  unveiled,  the  East  hath  confessed 
A  flush  !    'tis  dead  !    'tis  alive  !    'tis  dead  ere 

the  West 
Was  aware  of  it !    nay,  'tis  abiding,  'tis  un- 

withdrawn  ! 
Have  a  care,  sweet  Heaven  !    'Tis  dawn  !  " 

When  she  began  the  recitation 
everyone  stopped  talking  to  listen, 
but  Ned,  raising  himself  on  his 
elbow,  seemed  lost  in  thought.  He 
remained  in  the  same  attitude  long 


236      "GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

after  the  thrilling  passion  of  the  last 
words  had  died  on  the  air,  then,  with 
a  deep  sigh,  rose  and  went  away  by 
himself. 

During  these  days,  Fred  Morris 
and  Lieutenant  Rainy  were  always 
with  Alice,  striving  to  anticipate  her 
every  wish.  She  was  always  kind 
and  gentle,  and  no  words  can  de- 
scribe the  quiet  dignity  of  her 
demeanor.  Bessie  could  hardly 
restrain  the  impulse  to  take  her  in 
her  arms  and  weep  over  her,  but  she 
knew  that  Alice  could  bear  no  sign 
of  sympathy.  And  Ned  ?  Who  shall 
tell  his  thoughts  as  with  grave,  tender 
eyes  he  watched  his  wife  ?  As  he 
realized  how  infinitely  sweet  and 
altogether  to  be  desired  she  was,  and 
remembered  the  dreary  months  and 
years  of  her  life  which  he  owed  to 
her,  which  he  had  robbed  of  hope 
and  joy  and  youth.  As  each  day 
and  hour  revealed  more  and  more 
the  singleness  of  her  strong  char- 
acter, and  showed  him  with  what 
nobility  and  sweetness  she  had  met 
the  misfortune  of  their  ill-starred 
marriage  ;  as  he  contrasted  the  life 


"GO    FORTH    AND    FIND.  237 

which  she  had  led  with  his  own 
wasted  time,  his  heart  and  senses 
yielded  more  and  more  to  the  influ- 
ence of  her  presence,  but  his  reason 
told  him  that  there  could  be  little 
hope  that  he  could  win  the  love 
which  he  had  so  carelessly  flung  aside. 
So  he  watched  her  and  lingered  near 
her,  but  spoke  no  word. 

The  last  days  came  and  passed. 
The  Lilith  lifted  its  anchor  for  the 
last  time  from  beside  its  warlike 
neighbor,  and,  watched  by  kindly 
eyes  from  the  deck  of  the  great 
man-of-war,  sailed  away  from  lovely 
"Napoli." 

They  were  off  Southampton,  and 
on  the  morrow  they  would  be  home- 
ward bound.  A  shore  boat  was  to 
bring  off  the  fresh  fruits  in  the  morn- 
ing,  and  take  Mrs.  Warburton  and 
Alice  back.  They  had  been  on  shore 
all  day  and  were  tired  and  silent  ; 
all  felt  the  sorrow  of  the  coming  part- 
ing. Ned  had  scarcely  spoken  dur- 
ing the  evening.  He  sat  near  Alice, 
watching  her  profile,  as  she  looked 
out  toward  the  red  western  sky. 
Fred  was  picking  out  a  new  coster 


238      "  GO     FORTH     AND     FIND." 

song  on  the  guitar,  sometimes  hum- 
ming and  sometimes  whistling  the 
air  ;  Margaret  Whitwell  sat  by  trying 
to  help  him  to  recall  the  tune  and 
the  words.  Presently  he  laid  the 
guitar  down  and  Edith  said  : 

"  Ned,  will  you  sing  something  for 
me  ?  It  is  a  long  time  since  I  have 
heard  you  sing." 

He  drew  the  guitar  toward  him, 
while  a  far-away  look  came  into  his 
eyes.  He  played  softly,  and  sang 
in  a  low  voice  one  of  theFrench  songs 
which  he  remembered  to  have  sung 
so  long  ago,  out  on  the  blue  lake  in 
far  away  Scotland. 

He  could  see  the  lace  scarf  which 
Alice  wore  across  her  breast  stir  with 
the  throbbing  of  her  heart.  Then  he 
played  a  brief  prelude  and  began 
again.  All  that  he  desired,  but  dared 
not  hope  for,  was  in  his  voice  : 

*'  Could  you  but  read,  my  love,  this  heart  of 

mine 

You'd  find  a  wondrous  story  written  there, 
It  is  the  tale  my  lips  would  frame  to  thee 
Did  I  but  dare,  did  I  but  dare. 
The  tale  of  one  unto  whose  soul  was  borne 
Ah  angel's  whisper  soft  as  summer  wind, 


"GO     FORTH     AND     FIND.'        239 

There  is  a  heart  which  Heaven  has  made 

for  thee, 
Go  forth  and  find,  go  forth  and  find. 

"A  tale  of  one  who  wandered  over  earth, 
By    land  and  sea,  by   home  and   foreign 

shore, 

Until  into  your  eyes  he  gazed  and  knew 
His  search  was  o'er,  his  search  was  o'er. 
Give  me,  my  love,  the  courage  then  to  tell 
The  whole  of  what  I've  told  the  smallest 

part, 
Let  but  your  eyes,  love,  bid  my  tongue  to 

say, 
What's  in  my  heart,  what's  in  my  heart." 

His  eyes  were  fixed  on  her  and 
when  the  last  sound  ceased,  she 
turned  and  met  his  gaze  with  all  her 
tender  soul  in  her  face.  As  the 
strong  waves  of  the  sea  rush  to  the 
shore,  so  his  love  surged  out  to  meet 
the  sweet  dear  passion  in  her  eyes, 
and  he  knew  that  the  old  heaven  and 
earth  had  passed  away,  and  that  all 
things  had  become  new. 


THE    END. 


UBIVIRSIT 


•k 


